EPTThe conference was held in the Grand Vinoy Hotel, a massive 5 star luxury resort replete with cozy amenities. An employee who looked curiously like Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory showed us around, and he led us to an outdoor swimming pool on the third floor. The Fourth of July was the official barbecue to kick off the event, but my parents didn't know beforehand that you needed tickets for the cook out. Eventually we ate at a restaurant next to the shoreline, with ferries and private yachts in full view, and watched the fireworks that celebrate America's independence. I think the best part of Fourth of July fireworks is that, although it happens every year, people everywhere in every part of the country can look up to the darkening sky and appreciate the spectacular lights.
I honestly did not know what to expect on the first day. We were staying at a Marriott only a couple of blocks away, and the hotel included a shuttle bus that could transport us to and fro the Vinoy at our convenience. We stepped off the shuttle at the main entrance of the Vinoy to the greetings of hotel employees decked in their busboy uniforms, impeccably matching white polo shirts with khaki shorts and flip flops. Climbing up a flight of wide sweeping steps, we came upon a stretched out veranda with comfortable chairs, ceiling fans, a cocktail bar, and a majestic view of the shore with its palm trees kissing the surface of the water.
Inside the hotel lobby, we encountered groups of people wearing name tags around the neck and talking about anything they could with people who also had similar speech impediments or general anxieties about talking. The lobby was grand with an impossibly high ceiling, huge yellow chandeliers emanating soft divine light, fine paintings adorning the wooden vinyl walls, and a beautiful marble floor and staircase. To the right were several elevators and a sports bar, to the left chairs with cushions and flat screen TVs. I attempted feebly to mix with a few of the groups before giving up and seeking solace in my glass of lemonade from the free condiments table.
Meanwhile, my dad had introduced himself to several people about his age, including a slightly obese lady with white hair and fluorescent green pants, and a short balding man who claimed to be a biochemical engineer employed by the CIA. My dad enthusiastically proceeded to introduce them to his son, and I stood there rather awkwardly trying to smile pleasantly while keeping a neutral face at the same time. My eyes nervously glanced the room sideways and up and down, and through my peripheral vision I could see two gentlemen who looked to be in their early 20s and sufficiently inviting enough to engage in dialogue with.
I was midway in the course of walking in their general direction when the masses of people began to file out of the lobby into a narrow corridor leading outside. We went outside under a hot Floridian sun and artificial rocky waterfalls, past a hotel gym, and into the main area where the conference was to be held for the majority of the next 3 days. It was a sight to see all these people in their regular clothes and name tags alongside "normal" tourists in their bathing suits, shirtless men and women wearing bikinis.
That night my family ate at a Thai restaurant in the downtown part of the city, and I had never seen so many homeless people coexisiting with young men and women in tight shirts and even tighter pants, crazy hair, skirts, and high heels going in and out of the loud club next door. I sampled some pad Thai, green and red curry, and spicy noodles. The food was so intense and full of heat that I could literally feel the heat drown out the tension and apprehension from my body. I felt like a new person after the meal. We went back to the Marriott where my brother watched more crime scene investigation stuff on TV and I ate some vanilla yogurt.
The first "real" day of the conference started out with my family arriving late at the Vinoy. We all had schedules in our pockets. My brother made his way to the teen section in the main lobby and I found myself walking quickly to the 20s group, trying to catch my breath and slow my heart. I finally entered the main conference hall and found a long hallway and rooms partitioned off to each side with temporary and narrow walls. I got into the room where the first event was being held and found the room crowded so I had to settle for a seat next to the door. Next to me was a slightly overweight girl in glasses who had a face that looked like she might burst in tears any moment. At the podium, a young attractive guy with spiked hair and a tank top was speaking confidently and with attitude. But, it was surprising. He was stuttering. And every time her stuttered, he smiled and laughed to the crowd, bringing and audience closer to himself, feeding off the collective energy of the room. What happened next I will never forget.
A tall skinny brunette girl with wavy hair wearing a denim jacket with a brown shirt underneath and a bracelet and white pants got up to the podium. She was unbelievably good looking. And she had problems talking. This was a new thing for me. Here was a girl who looked like she could have any guy she wanted drooling at her feet, and yet she was self conscious about her speech. Whenever she stumbled on a word she would look up at the ceiling for a split second and try to say it again. When she finished, she received a thunderous applause and she smiled ever so sweetly. After that we counted off by 5 to get into smaller assigned groups for purposes of introducing each other. As my luck would have it, I found myself in a group consisting of a guy who looked like he played World of Warcraft in his parent's basement, a guy with a blank stare, a geeky guy with large glasses, and...4 incredibly gorgeous girls.
To my left was a blonde girl in an orange shirt who was the supervisor of the 20s group, to my right a dark haired prett Jewish girl, across from me a petite blonde in a yellow tank top, and on the other side a gothic brunette girl with thigh high boots and piercings with a prominent nose piercing. I remember thinking to myself, I've never been so close to so many hot women in my life. The room was loud and my group started talking, and we did childish icebreakers, but I zoned out the entire time, trying to breathe it in and savor every moment of being surrounded by so many cute girls. At one point I told my group that my younger brother stuttered as well, and the girls seemed really impressed by my comment, and they started a discussion of whether the "stuttering gene" runs in families.
After that all of the first period classes were over, so everyone mingled out into the main hall. I took some random guy's number, and I talked to another guy how I was from New Jersey. At a parents class, parents talked about how grandparents were unsure how to deal with grand kids speech problems, and one mom said that her sons sisters don't want to interrupt him when he's having a hard block. Then it was time for lunch. However, my parents hadn't bought lunch tickets so we went outside the hotel to eat again, this time from a nearby Panda Express. It was almost evening so we decided to retire back to our room.
The next day we had sime free complimentary breakfast at the Marriot. I saw a Man from the coference staying at my hotel. He went up to the register and asked for some more sugar and milk in his coffee but he was totally unconfident in his approach, which made the woman he was talking to say "suuuuuure honey". The second day was more or less the same. I went to a few random classes, saw some cute girls but talked to guys exclusively, and most of my conversations were just small talk. I attended a class and sat in the back. There I met this black man who was in his 30s who talked with a Jamaican accent and always had a bug stupid smile on his face. He asked me what my name was after trying to pronounce it off my name tag, I told him, he asked me what was my profession, I told him I was an accountant, he told me he was a special education teacher. Stuff like that. The lecturer was an old man who discussed the biological basis of speech problems.
The second class was more interesting. There was a panel in the front of the room consisting of a short guy in glasses and a goatee, a taller guy with muscles, and a gorgeous brunette girl. The short guy talked about being an engineer and how his speech never got in the way because he was so passionate about his job, and the girl talked about being a student at Columbia University and studying to be a doctor. She said that she might have speech anxieties but nobody cares about that in a fast paced environment like a hospital where patients have bigger problems and things need to get done efficiently. She had a cute smile.
Next was lunch in the ballroom. I tried sitting next to some guys I had met, but there were too many girls around, so I ended up sitting with my family, gobbling down a tuna sandwich. At another table was an African man talking to an Amish woman, both were about the same age. At every table I saw men and women, guys and gals, enjoying each others company over lunch, talking about their life experiences with stuttering. The rest of the day went by rather uneventfully.
Th third day was incredible because it was the last day of the conference. It started off with a 20s breakfast, to which not many people went to, to my surprise. I took some toast and a glass of fruit punch and stood in the back of the room by myself. Eventually someone spilled their orange juice while walking past me, so I found a seat next to a tall skinny black guy about my age. He asked where I was from, I did too, then he asked me where I went for college, I said Princeton to which he seemed quite impressed. Obviously I was lying but at least someone was finally showing me some respect. We kept talking but I could see his interest start to fade away, and we ran out of things to talk about. Eventually he made his way over to a cute girl and started chatting her up, and smiling for once.
In another class I saw a good looking guy with a slight beard talking to an Asian girl with glasses. The panel in that room was an extremely confident muscular guy at 6'3 with a shaved head, a short Italian guy who worked in his father's pizzeria, an Indian guy with glasses and a thick beard who worked for RIM, a Canadian company that made the BlackBerry, and a very charming and attractive brcunette girl only a year younger than me who was an elementary school teacher and had a captivating honest smile and wore a pink dress with sparkling eyes. My dad was sitting a few rows down from me. The tall confident guy talked with the most severe stutter. His famous line was "I stutter. You got a problem with that?" to which everyone would smile and he won their respect. The Indian guy boasted about being the most talkative guy in his office, and he talked a million miles an hour, and the girl just had the sweetest voice I have ever heard. She talked slowly with long pauses, but with such grace and poise. Eventually the tall guy joked that no single dad would ever have a problem with her. A fat Hawaiian man with sunglasses later talked about how his speech never impacts his life, and he was able to overcome his speech by being confident.
After lunch, where I sat with my family again, I tried talking to some friend I had made, but he was making his way over for a group photo so we cut the conversation short. There was this big class, with everyone at the conference, and people would go up to the podium and speak. One of the notable ones was this Asian guy who was 21, a journalism major at UCLA, with orange emo hair and cool glasses. He talked about coming to Florida all by himself from California, and staying at the Marriot (my dad talked to him later). My dad went up to speak after that and almost started crying. The class after that was "Guys from Harvard Stutter too", and it was about this man who had graduated with a Harvard MBA who shared his story with a PowerPoint slideshow and lots of funny stories. The man was very tall, maybe 6'5 and with blonde hair swept back, and his wife looked like Miley Cyrus's mom. I was uncomfortable the whole time, and when he was taking questions at he end of his lecture, I was standing awkwardly in the back. I went to the bathroom, and when I got out I saw my dad talking with 2 guys who I gave my number to before. My dad told them how I closed myself out from everyone else, and they gave out long sighs and said stuff like "c'mon man you stutter less than us, be confident and talk to people". I spent the rest of the day standing around with my mom or going outside to get some fresh air.
At night there was this bif formal party to close off the conference. All the men wore suits or tuxedos or really nice dress shirts, and the ladies were in cute flirty summer dresses. We were at a table with people we didn't know, including 2 single moms, a mentally retarded kid, and an Asian girl with her younger brother. The Asian girl told me that I looked young for my age. We ate. I went outside the room and found my friends standing around taking pictures of each other on their iPhones, laughing, chatting, the guys in their tuxedos, the girls in their dresses, and groups already formed, the life long friendships ready to blossom. Again I stood in the background. I waved bye to my friend and he awkwardly waved back. I had met this 30 year old dude before, a computer programmer from South Carolina, and he told my dad that a few years ago he used to stutter on every word, but now he does it only on every sentence. My dad asked for his number, but he smiled and looked at me and said that I already have it. He tapped me on the shoulder perhaps out of sympathy. My mom had told him earlier her son was a little shy, and he responded with a smile "well we all are a little bit". I saw the cute girls I had seen throughout the conference, talking to other hot girls, talking to hot guys, talking to creepy guys who smiled too much. I was neither, I was neither hot nor friendly nor could butter up a girl. I left feeling a big empty hole in my heart. I realized, then for the first time, even though it was always on my mind the last 3 days, maybe my problem was not that I stuttered, indeed I stuttered less much less than many others, but my lack of confidence and low self esteem. We left with the knowledge that next year we would attend our 2nd NSA conference, to be held in Scottsdale Arizona.
After that my family went to Disneyland. We saw Brazilian schoolchildren tourists. We saw tinker bell fly outside the disney castle. We saw people from other countries working there, incuding a cute portuguese woman who have me ice cream and a good looking polish girl who cleaned up my table after i Dropped my sandwich. Then we drove back to New Jersey. It took 15 hours. We ate some peaches from a roadside stand. We took pics of palm trees. We ate at Panda Expess and Golden Corral. I read obamas "dreams from my father" and "transcendental meditation" in the car.
