Are you sensitive to others and your environment?
Then perhaps you’ll know what I’m talkin’ about!
I’m a regular at this cafe. So’s this other guy. Young. Bookish in appearance. Likely a university student. Tall, wiry.
Always on his laptop.
Nervous energy. Never stops moving. His motor’s always running.
Once my little table was next to his. I too was on my laptop.
He wore earplugs. His foot went tap taptaptaptaptaptaptap taptaptaptaptap striking the floor in apparent rhythm with his music.
Never stopped! Taptaptaptaptaptap. Like Chinese water torture. Dripdripdripdripdrip.
Finally I spoke up. I had to. He was driving. me. crazy. Politely requested could you not do that. It’s annoying. Distracting. Something to that effect.
He glared as if I’d said I’d stolen $5 from his wallet. But he stopped. Thank god!
Well, Na-na-na Nervous Nick is at the cafe again. At a table in my peripheral vision clear as day. No earplugs this time. Legs crossed. Foot moving. Updownupdownupdownupdownupdown.
Doesn’t stop. Updownupdownupdown. Sandaled foot always moving. Nervous energy spilling onto the floor into a puddle intruding into my own space a short 5 feet away.
I couldn’t take it any more!
I turn my table and chair from 12 o’clock to 10 o’clock to rotate him out of peripheral vision.
It helps. Still, I know he’s there. Can feel it. I’m uber-sensitive. I glance over my shoulder time to time just to see whether his foot’s still updownupdownupdownupdown.
OH GLORIOUS EVENING!!!
Na-na-na Nervous Nick just now stands, packs up his laptop and goes!
Where does a young man with soooo much drippy nervous energy go? God let it be to the gym for an exhausting workout!
A Zen garden!
A saloon! Certain folks, only a drunken stupor will dial down that energy.
Heck, with all his nervous energy, a few jolts o’ the whiskey might do me good too.