Sam's nephew arrived. Now, I'd always heard he was quiet, a man of few words, which kind of suggested I might like him even before I'd even met him as my appreciation of people so often is in direct relation to how little (dumb shit) they say.
But then, in total contradiction to this, you've got to at least say one interesting thing to get on my radar.
Now there is quiet, and there is quiet, and then there is Charlie. Quiet? Man of few words? He doesn't speak at all. Seriously, he doesn't talk.
He has headphones permanently inserted in his ears (he told Sam he listened to podcasts) and his phone permanently in his hand.
I said to Sam, "Let's hope he isn't listening to Jihad radicalisation." You know, they say it is the quiet ones. Sam looked at me with big eyes. "We could be on the 6pm news saying we had no idea," I said. And I heard Sam ask Charlie several times what he was listening to on his headphones. Apparently, he is listening to European soccer commentary. (Sam and I just looked quizzical at this piece of information)
Not only doesn't he speak, he is really quiet. I mean freakishly quiet. Suddenly he is in the room, or next to you, just like that.
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