perfunctory
[per-fuhngk-tuh-ree]
adjective
performed
merely
as a
routine
duty;
hasty
and
superficial:
perfunctory
courtesy.
lacking
interest,
care,
or
enthusiasm;
indifferent
or
apathetic:
In
his
lectures
he
reveals
himself
to be
merely
a
perfunctory
speaker.
*********************************
The man
wakes up the sound of his alarm. He
groans and shuts it off. Sometimes he
wishes he could do more. Take a bat to
bed with him so he could smash the damn thing, but he never does. He has had the clock for too long, and he
would never be able to wake up without it.
He forces himself out of bed, just as he does every morning, and readies
himself for the day.
A quick
breakfast of oatmeal with a dash of honey, and a cup of coffee. He does not enjoy either. The oatmeal is of the cheap, instant variety
and is tasteless and lumpy. The honey
makes it barely tolerable. He eats it
because that is what the health experts say he should eat, and his slowly
expanding waistline makes him more open to such suggestions. The coffee is dark and bitter. He does not like the taste of it, but he
drinks it simply because it helps him get moving. If he was allowed to use sugar, he would put
a large amount of it in, but again, the health experts. And since he finds the idea of milk oddly
unsettling, he uses neither that nor cream to cut the bitterness. They have become as much a part of his routine
as waking up, no matter how much he dislikes any of it.
He
begins his drive to work. It is familiar. So much so that he could close his eyes and
still make it. Sometimes, he is tempted
to do that, just to see what happens. He
never does though. Besides, other cars
on the road made it so he had to pay at least some attention to his
actions. He stops at the light that
always seems to be red when he gets to it.
He uses
the time to look at the shop. The shop
on the corner. The shop with the faded
sign and barred windows. He feels his
grip on the steering wheel tighten. He
wants to go in. To see what that store
has, and maybe even buy something. But
he never does. That would not be part of
his daily routine. And he had learned to
stick to that like a priest to his holy book.
It might have been maddening, but it was safe and familiar. He knew what was expected of him, and he never
did anything else, even if he wanted to.
Besides, what would people who knew him think if they saw him entering a
store like that? Nothing good.
He gets
to work and sits at his desk. He turns on
his computer and starts. Everything is
set up for him. All he has to do is open
the programs and start typing the right things.
It is not interesting, and it can be frustrating at times, but he does
not mind. Mostly, anyway. He lets his mind wander as his fingers move
over the keyboard. He thinks of things
he could be doing. Things he might even
like to do. He never will, but he can
think about them.
He risks
a glance at his coworkers. They look at
him and whisper. They never talk to him,
but he does not mind. Most of them are
younger than him, and there would be nothing to talk about. Most of them don’t seem to like him for some
reason anyway. Best to stay in his own
area and leave them be. There is only
one person that he cannot avoid. His
boss, who comes over to him and disrupts the man’s routine by having him come
to the boss’ office.
Soon, the
man is back at his desk. He stares at
the screen. His routine has been disturbed. He needs to get back into it. A pay cut will not be terribly detrimental to
him. He spends so little, after
all. Still, he feels his chest tighten
and he has to coax his fingers into working again. He manages to finish the day and heads home.
As he
stops at the light and looks at the store on the corner, his mind begins to
churn. His routine has already been
disturbed, so why not add something else into the mix? He parks the car. He sits there for a moment, looking at the bland
street and the people walking along. A wide,
toothy grin starts to form, but he stops it before it can properly
manifest. He goes into the store with
the barred windows.
*******************************
I'm sure most people can figure out what kind of store that is. Here's a hint, it's not a grocery store, nor does it sell any food or food-like products.
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