Let us suppose for a moment, that, like Horatio Nelson, you lose the use of your dominant hand.
You don’t have to be as dramatic about the actual losing of use – though feel free to make up any kind of back-story you like; blood and gore totally optional – the point at hand (hur hur, sorry) is how one copes with said loss of function. And this is where I am at a loss. Because while I have a reasonably active imagination (Exhibit A), what I do not have is a dominant hand.
We’ve all been there. The embarrassment of misinterpreting someone else’s unspoken communication; the awkwardness or downright unpleasantness of someone misunderstanding or just plain missing yours.
But you don’t feel comfortable just coming out and flatly saying these things – or bellowing them across the room, as the case may be. I believe I may have discovered a solution, and very poetically, this benefit for the future has its roots in the past, back before texting and DMs and all the rest of it. Back, in fact, in the days of sailing ships.