A man walked in front of them with greasy-slicked hair that gleamed jauntily under the florescent glow. He had on a business suit that had somewhere to go. All walking by them had somewhere to go, even if they weren't sure where it was.

He walked by them with his hair and his suit and his briefcase and sat down at the far end of their row in a chair that was cemented to the floor. He fell asleep slowly, his eyes first crossing a little before the lids closed, and a thin silvery strand of spittle drooling down his front.

The unattractive people ate their unidentifiable food, staring into oblivion. It wasn't very tastey, but taste didn't matter to them. It was the act of masticating that thrilled them so. They were large people and ran funny. They slept well at night, thankfully, beause it was the second best thing they were good at. The first, was eating. And they knew it. They gave each other secret congratulatories when no one was looking, because they felt self-conscious about it.

But they were nice. And that's important.

The man with the greasy hair wasn't mean, exactly, he was just from a place where people prided themselves on being able to mindlessly follow the person in front. It didn't matter what they were doing, in fact, the more bizarre their behavior was, the more honorable it was to follow them. Why this existed as a way of living, no one really knew. No one had asked. It wasn't polite.

The man had fallen asleep because there were too many people to follow and he had become overwhelmed. The saliva dripping from his mouth came from his inability at the moment to swallow something, anything, in order to be like the unattractive people. His body would have slid to the floor in an attempt to get close to the unattractive people, to be more like them, but his suit wouldn't let him. His suit and his body often argued.

There was a paper cup crumpled in the corner. A little boy picked it up and smelled it. It smelled like rancid beer. The boy, a future derelict with a liver condition, drop kicked it to the middle of the room. As it slid along the linoleum tile, a dog saw it and pounced on it, picked it up in his dog breath teeth and took it to his master's girlfriend, who paid much more attention to him and smelled much better. She then took the cup in her ruby-red fingertips to the garbage can and threw it away. A few minutes later the cup was smushed when an old lady threw away a cigarette pack, and then, a used McDonald's bag.

Why do humans assume they are so much more interesting than everyone else?
D8(8)