A hundred moments in autism - The Royal Mile

As an introverted autist, shouting for people to look at me is not something deep-rooted in my DNA, very much the opposite.

I am flyering my wife’s Edinburgh show, though, so I just ignore my fears and get on with it (very much like the time that myself and three fellow acrophobic friends went on a hill-walking holiday a few years ago).

I soon work out a patter which I call out. Today is a mixed bill show, so I use the classic Free Fringe text, ‘three acts for the price of none’. 

I am calling out to everyone that passes, which goes against my entire nature, which because a million thoughts pass through my mind as I do this – my voice, do I sound fun and welcoming (a high bar), do I look normal, how close should I stand to people, how can I catch people’s attention whilst studiously avoiding eye contact? I repeat the words a thousand times, but still stumble through them from time to time.

Sometimes I even forget how to stand. I am constantly clenching my leg muscles as I work up the motivation to approach the next person, and after an hour of this my legs just go and I stagger awkwardly like a new-born giraffe.

But I’m focussing on the negative here. There are things autists do especially well, never forget that.  I am outside the venue doing last minute flyering. A police car goes past, sirens blazing. 

“If you’re on the run from the cops,” I say to a passer by, “You can hide from them in our basement gig,”.

The passer by takes the leaflet.