If you’ve read the StopAhead blog I mentioned earlier you should have seen an entry referring to people watching. Go read the entry then come back, I would like to give my take on the “interesting Sixty Surfer” my friend referred to.

So my friend and I we met at Starbucks, got some coffee, and a table outside. If you’ve read over her blog you may appreciate the intensity at which she can deconstruct people, I was a little nervous but disguised it with cough syrup (not on purpose btw). This is a hobby of hers, observing people, then speculating on their life, personalities, etc…

We were having a little fun observing people, then a man walked by that she noticed. When he walked back by she pointed him out.

The man had the look of an aged rock star. He wore a stage costume for wardrobe, his hair draped straight, and bleached white around his face. His weight and voice screamed a long struggle with chemical dependency.

He sat down behind us and joined a conversation we weren’t having, and we followed right along. He was a master smoker. He made love to his cigarette while we talked; he smoked it down to the filter, and then smoked the filter.

I watched him more than listened to him because what he was saying was such an obvious load of crap I felt I would need to flush if I listened to long.

My friend moved closer to the guy, engaging him in conversation. I have to admit I was a little annoyed. The guy was a bore. I don’t enjoy talking to someone who lies so often during a conversation that the strain of remembrance weighs on his face when you ask him a question.

She said later she thought he had a mental disorder (she deals with mentally unhealthy people for a living). I thought he was inventive, not crazy.

I wish we had gone and talked to another patron of Starbucks we saw walking in. He was an elderly gentleman, wore a three-piece suit, and in my mind I see a gold link chain attached to his vest to hold a pocket watch.

Given the chance, I prefer to talk to someone whose lies are at least subtle enough I need to work to find them.

That’s my take on the Rob Stewart wannabe. I tried to make cool while talking to the guy, attempted a feigned interest afterwards, the cough syrup couldn’t contain my distain though, and I think she saw it.