Exhibit B: I like this start a lot better.

“Oh, sure. John loves the mall.”

It was going to be another one of those days. No, I nodded, I don’t.

“John’s such a kidder,” Mark insisted. “What time?”

Oh, fuck you Mark. Do you even realize that what you’re doing is basically the same as stealing money out of the hat of a blind man?

“3:00 PM? Sounds great.” Mark could barely stifle his malicious chuckle.

No, I nodded again. You know that I have a job to do everyday at 3:00 PM.

“We’ll be sure to be there!”

I punched Mark in the arm.

“Ow – hey, what the hell was that for?”

My eyes gave him the answer his question required.

“Oh, don’t be such a stiff. You can’t work all the time.”

Easy for you to say. You don’t have my boss. Mark continued walking, as if I hadn’t said anything.

Who can blame him? I hadn’t said anything.

Being a mute can be such a bother.

Exhibit A: Implementation of my newest idea.

Everyday, people take things for granted. How would you live your life if you couldn’t walk? If you couldn’t hear – what would you do if you couldn’t listen to your favorite song, listen to the voice of your loved one in your ear, hear the sound life and appreciate the value of silence? Do you appreciate, daily, your ability to see? I bet you wouldn’t like to be blind.

How would you live your life if you couldn’t talk?

I never much appreciated my voice – and nobody else much did either. I was, in my more fortunate days, a smartass. The only time I opened my mouth was to cut at another – my tongue was like a dagger. I wasn’t malicious, though others often perceived me as such. I just had a bad sense of humor. Well, I didn’t think it was bad – only people on the receiving end of it did. All of my friends were won through unrestrained use of my tongue. They thought I was a blast. Hell. I thought I was a blast too! Political correctness be damned, sometimes you just have to speak your mind.

But I can’t speak my mind anymore. Not since the accident. Now, all I can do is nod or shake my head accordingly as my friends relate my sentiments to others. It’s been that way for, damn, ten years? In hindsight, I probably should have cared a lot more about correcting my friends, but I couldn’t be bothered with the constant guessing game that came along with it. I mean, really, who cares about the difference between “John likes watching movies,” and “John likes watching movies with others?” You pick your battles, and battles over two words (particularly when you have no effective means of conveying those words) just aren’t ones worth fighting.