Another aspect of norms, which should be explained at this juncture, is that when breached, they usually result in some sort of social stigmatization or ostricization. This is how these laws are "enforced." Most of us want to avoid feeling like shit.

I felt like shit.

But mostly, I was mad at the bartender. I mean really lady, what the fuck? Did I hurt anything? The customer had paid for it. Jesus Christ. I sat there brooding and debating how to fight back, when Jeremy gave me a reality check. "Well, that was kind of wrong what you did," he said, adding that it wasn't that big of a deal, however. I wouldn't let it drop, though. Eventually Jeremy got a bit freaked out by my growing obsession with this faux pas and took his leave. I can't say I blame the guy.

I asked the bartender if she was truly angry with me, and she said no, that it was her little joke. (Yeah, right.) I still felt like shit. I went back to Tosca. Richard gave me an espresso martini and told me that I could grab his strainer any day of the week. "Yeah!" chimed in the cocktail waitress. I felt a lot better. I am never going back to Specs, however, and I suppose that is more my fault than theirs. The joint just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I went home a little down, looking forward to immersing myself in the relative normalcy of autism in the morning. Katy St. Clair

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