More than 30 years ago, I was in my twenties. I had been going to the Hamptons every summer. Sometimes in the evening, I’d go to a dance/bar place such as JAG in East Hampton and Danceteria in Bridgehampton (both of which were closed under suspicious circumstances). Most of the time, I was usually alone, because it was very loud, difficult for me to speak louder than the noise levels. But, that didn’t bother me much, because I’m deaf, and I often didn’t leave my hearing aids on. I could feel vibrations coming out of loudspeakers, and I could feel my body following the beats coming from those devices. These had enabled me to dance with some rhythm.
Now this title….why is it a question? What does lipreading have to do with this story? Well, I could read lips of people speaking to me, and often I had told them they didn’t have to use their voices when they spoke to me — they just had to move their lips. However, any hearing person would feel strange to move his or her lips without using any voice. On the other hand, it’s much easier for any deaf person, as least for me, to move one’s lips without using one’s own voice.
Also, for most of the time, barhoppers with typical hearing couldn’t hear my voice, and they weren’t always reliable lipreaders themselves. So, reader, if I were to stop here, this story would be mehhh….
Except for one night…one time at JAG, I went to the restroom to relieve myself. There was another man relieving himself into a stand-up urinal next to mine. He was drunk and he was saying something to me. I could see he was slurring, but I didn’t understand him. So, I told him so, adding that I’m deaf. Waking up a bit, he asked me with slightly exaggerated lip movements, “CAN YOU READ MY LIPS?”
I replied, Yes.
He retorted with slightly exaggerated lip movements, “FUCK YOU!”
Slightly taken back, I chortled back slightly, and ignored him. I left the restroom, and saw my friend Tim from our tennis club. I told him of my encounter with that drunkard. I thought it was crude but funny, but Tim was pissed. He asked me where that guy was, and I showed him.
Tim took the matter into his hands, and came to the bum, face to face. He demanded that the drunkard apologize to me. I told Tim that the jerk was not worth our time, but Tim insisted. This situation lasted too long — I left before it was over. I didn’t know what happened then, but evidently, no one was hurt. I do remember the drunkard was able to pick up a woman, and both left JAG for some ‘fun.’
In any event, I still chuckle at my meeting with the drunkard after more than 30 years. Were my feelings hurt? Absolutely not, because one would always encounter a jerk once in a while, and I’ve had more than a few opportunities there. However, it was only recent when I recalled an early scene in one of my favorite teenage movies, National Lampoon’s Animal House. That scene showed what John Belushi (as Bluto) did accidentally (e.g., drunkenly) to two college freshmen, Flounder and Pinto, when they came to the Delta House in an attempt to join a fraternity. If I had thought of that scene when I met the bum more than 30 years ago, I would consider “accidentally” turning away from my urinal and making pee on him. But I’m glad nothing happened, because I would have scooped down to his level.
I just thought it was very funny to imagine such a scene.