It's all about me

Been reading again. About empathy and autism. I used to remind myself that people like to be greeted in the morning. Good morning seems like an irrelevance, I know you're here, you know I'm here. I just sort of forget that it's expected. I sometimes forget that after someone asks how you are/what you did, you're expected to ask them the same. Is it that I just don't care? Goodbye is a little easier, because you are arranging when to see them again. Actually, I guess I was crap at this in the salon because I would see them all tomorrow. Was it really neccesary to go and find everyone and say goodbye? I learned to eventually. Is this how people become hypochondriacs? You study illness, and start to recognise yourself in one too many articles? I think I should read that book about the male brain. I do appreciate that there are a lot of neurotypical rude people out there. I am just feeling a little self-absorbed. Hell, that's what this blog is all about!
I find I never quite knowing when it is the right time to speak up and ask a question, so I don't. I believe I made a few social mistakes in school, and so learnt to stay quiet rather than make a mistake. I shared a few clients with a colourist in the salon. We would be eating in the back room after, and she would tell me so much about the client's personal life. When would she even get to ask these questions?(she worked fast) I would sense there was more between the lines that someone was telling me, but I felt it was not my place to ask. She would just jump right in, and they loved her. In my hour, I would discuss, what they wanted, how I would address that, and how to maintain it. Some clients would mention a pet favourite subject of mine (usually personality, diet, or environment) and we(I) would get carried away talking. The rest I thought I did a favour, by keeping quiet. Sometimes I would fake "talkative", but it sometimes backfired once I saw them a few times, and felt I had to keep up the "upbeat"conversation. Other times I discovered things about them, that I would not have otherwise found out, had I kept to my usual quiet self. This is why I loved the "pick-up artist" it told the rules for when to speak and what to say. Unfortunately I am neither male, or a sleaze, so some of the imformation was irrelevant. I liked the systemation of it. Oh here we go again.