Exercise #3 (Christie)

He was not an immediately likable man, a fact made manageable only because he knew it to be true. He was slightly too tall for his perpetually boyish frame. He imagined that women looked at him and thought of paper-thin T-shirts and socks with ringers, despite both of the full-price black suits he’d bought at the Men’s Warehouse. His arms stretched longer than his white oxford shirt-sleeves and out into narrow, wicked fingers, collapsing in on themselves and hooking his hand, claw-like, when he stretched it out for a shake. In the obligatory intimacy of such moments, locked and pumping with the clients on his sales route, he practiced throwing his shoulders back, covering with his lips the crags and fissures of his teeth, and matching the pressure of his partner’s cagey grip. When mutual respect was unachievable, he happily resorted to deference, a state in which he was exceedingly comfortable. He was a salesman, after all, even when the selling of the thing came at a price.

He had few friends, and those that suffered his friendship kept him at arms length, as if anticipating the need for distance. He knew this, but enjoyed their sometimes-company. He was a hard man to know, and he didn’t begrudge their coolness. Instead, he sought ways to excuse his embarrassing presence: he maintained excellent posture, kept his eyeglasses spotless, and ended sentences with phrases like, if you will, and, but I don’t need to tell you that. He took pride in his clipped tenor, and carefully enunciated the names of books and films as if quoting scripture, deferring to the higher minds of popular culture. He had perfect pitch.

Every morning, in the roomy apartment he had once shared with older-than-average parents, he would inspect himself in the oval pool of glass above the bathroom sink. Glasses on. Glasses off. Left side, chin up. Right side, chin down. He would stare into the spotty face in the mirror, tweezing miscreant black hairs, smoothing, again, the parted and gelled curls -- not blonde, not brown. He would practice the expressions he liked best, the ones that went along with, you have no idea, and, I’ve got good news and good news, and, it’s just as I suspected. e He introduced himself to himself, and tried valiantly to save face.