OCD spells P and cream soda bottles make shitty shivs

When I'm alone in my car and listening to music I have a weird compulsion to sign out the first letter of every word in the song. I am pretty sure my scary kindergarten teacher who got fired for stealing our milk and then blaming it on the poor kids forced us to learn the deaf alphabet that way and it is burned into my psyche. Come to think of it I should sue that bitch for contributing to my early onset rheumatoid arthritis. Anyway, I have been doing it for years and cannot stop. I call it hand jamming.

My OCD tells me that I must get at least 80% of the letters signed otherwise the sky will rain down acid and I will burn for all eternity. I am good at preventing this but I can never remember the sign for 'P.' I can't stop the flow, so I just throw out any sign for P. Most often this one:

Usually I am able to hide this shameful deed from the "normal" people but the other day I was driving home from work, rocking out to my The Best of Bob & Marcia album (my totally awesome 70's hippie reggae. "Young, Gifted, and Black" is like my personal mantra.) when my favorite song came on, "Pied Piper." So I am sitting at a red light innocently hand jamming away. Unfortunately for me there are a lot of 'P's' in that song. The guy facing me apparently thought I was having some angry Tourette-like episode and started honking his horn at me over and over again. Well I can't stop while I'm in a hand jamming groove so I just kept on throwing out those P's like I was some 90's west-side gansta rapper.

The light turned green and I drove off. I stopped a few miles up the road at a gas station and went inside to get some cream soda. When I came out the guy from the light was parked next to my car waiting for me! I was totally freaked and walked quickly to my car. I held my cream soda bottle by the neck, ready to smash it and slash the fucker with my rudimentary shiv in case he wanted a Piece of Me.

The guy looked at me and said "do we have some kind of problem?" I got so nervous that my soda slipped and smashed on the ground. Awesome, there went my shiv. I had no other choice but to be honest with the guy. I was very reluctant to do this because everyone knows that the OCD penalty for revealing my ritual is that I lose five minutes off of my life for every person I tell unless I spin around three times after telling them.

"Oh that is just this thing I do, kind of like a dance? I spell out the first letter of every song with my hands.... but I don't know the sign for P..... and see... I can't mess up my rhythm for fear of the acid...." and then I spun around three times.

I think he understood because he immediately broke eye contact and got back in his car. I finished spinning and got back into my car, figuring screw the cream soda. My Ipod shuffled to the next song, "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps" by Cake and I was on my way. I love that song.