...hands in my pocket...

The nurse finished explaining the procedure of the labs to me, and started getting ready. I turned away and tried to think of different things. From the left side of the room, someone entered: a charming Italian man in a black turtleneck. From the way he started chatting to my nurse (standing leaning on the edge of my cubicle wall) I could tell he was a regular. But after a moment it wasn't to the nurse that he directed his comments, but to me.

About Olympic sports, and Ferraris. Then anecdotes about Ben Johnson, who he used to represent, and finally to German cabarets. He became increasingly animated with each story, each new topic of discussion. Meanwhile I'm wondering why this peculiar yet entirely jovial man was still talking to me. At the point where the nurse began to pack up and call it quits, he gave a little clap and said "Okay. Looks like my work here is done" explaining he thought I looked a little uncomfortable with the needles, and maybe I could use a distraction. And wished he could, also, offer me a cookie or something. He suggested I stick around and offer the same for him.

I had to laugh at that. It was a neat little trick.