The Invisible Man.
There’s a man who
works somewhere that I often go for breakfast who’s terrified of
life.
I thought I was awkward, but he takes the biscuit. Everything about his body language screams ‘don’t notice me’. I doubt he could muster up enough physical presence to trigger an automatic door.
It’s as if he’s unhappy with inhabiting his own personal airspace. If he could exist in a fraction of the room, he do it.
(I don’t mean to be unpleasant. It’s merely an observation that I've pieced together over many a scrambled egg.)
It’s probably just a combination of his age and situation. I think he’s still at school, and only works at the weekend for a little extra money. His hairstyle is far too flamboyant for him to always be like this.
I know what it’s like to work somewhere that makes you feel uncomfortable. I used to do a Saturday job in John Lewis' catering department, and hated every single minute. When I was there, I was completely devoid of personality. I had absolutely nothing to say; it was as if I'd had a lobotomy.
(I guess it takes one to know one.)
Perhaps I should give him a hug. Would that be crossing the line? It's probably not wise. I suspect he might be held together by surface tension - and I don't want to make him burst.
I thought I was awkward, but he takes the biscuit. Everything about his body language screams ‘don’t notice me’. I doubt he could muster up enough physical presence to trigger an automatic door.
It’s as if he’s unhappy with inhabiting his own personal airspace. If he could exist in a fraction of the room, he do it.
(I don’t mean to be unpleasant. It’s merely an observation that I've pieced together over many a scrambled egg.)
It’s probably just a combination of his age and situation. I think he’s still at school, and only works at the weekend for a little extra money. His hairstyle is far too flamboyant for him to always be like this.
I know what it’s like to work somewhere that makes you feel uncomfortable. I used to do a Saturday job in John Lewis' catering department, and hated every single minute. When I was there, I was completely devoid of personality. I had absolutely nothing to say; it was as if I'd had a lobotomy.
(I guess it takes one to know one.)
Perhaps I should give him a hug. Would that be crossing the line? It's probably not wise. I suspect he might be held together by surface tension - and I don't want to make him burst.
