Fuck! He’s at the coffee machine. No escape.
“Hey, Ian! How was your weekend?”
“OK,” I say.
“And you?” I add, as one does.
“Great! I … I …,” blah, blah, blah.
“Do anything interesting yourself?” he asks.
I trawl for some event to say something about …
“What’s your take on Trump’s decision to …?” he continues.
I have no interest in the matter (nor has he) but regurgitate an opinion to satisfy this empty chatterer.
“Nice talking to you!” he says, energized.
“You too,” I lie, already drained by 9:00 am on Monday.
Being an introvert is tough.
“Hey, Ian! How was your weekend?”
“OK,” I say.
“And you?” I add, as one does.
“Great! I … I …,” blah, blah, blah.
“Do anything interesting yourself?” he asks.
I trawl for some event to say something about …
“What’s your take on Trump’s decision to …?” he continues.
I have no interest in the matter (nor has he) but regurgitate an opinion to satisfy this empty chatterer.
“Nice talking to you!” he says, energized.
“You too,” I lie, already drained by 9:00 am on Monday.
Being an introvert is tough.
