That guy

I’m that guy who hogs the four-seat table, with his pad n’ pen, looking completely outta place… coffee was a bad choice.

2Even the Christmas tree leans in for a stare, but when I go to meet it eye-to-spine it whistles and blinks at an awkwardly rapid pace.

He just wishes he was as cool as me, droppin’ lines insteada spines. Come January, you’re spent.