Usually I'm a fan of inanity.
Usually I love the little conversations going on all around, the little politenesses, the verbal bread crumbs that remind us how we got here and where we're going. The bright connective yarn threads on the hook rug of life.
Usually, but not always.
Due to some changes in the office, I am now aggressively greeted every morning.
Good morning, how're you? If I manage to lift my gaze from the carpet, the greeting is seasoned with a broad, welcoming grin and just the hint of a wink.
Good morning how am I at 7.28 a.m. on no caffeine and an SRO Metro bus ride?
So far, I have kept a lid on it. I grunt something that resembles good morning--a series of sounds reminiscent of those German Shepherds that bark "Jingle Bells." It's a sound, but hardly human. If I extend myself any further, I might have to address the how are you. And that would really be pushing it.
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