No Monday blues for him.
“Cheer up, Ian!” he says.
“Fuck off,” I think, “not at your behest.”
He’s a team player, eyeing management, proud of his 2:1 degree, his burgeoning family.
One of the boys too – he’ll have a few pints, but no more than four, to let off steam.
What is it about him I cannot stand?
Is it his wholesome smile, his overcommitment to the company, or that sense of his own significance?
Whatever. I do not share his lust for life.
Yet, I’m more alive than he’ll ever be.