Meeting A Renowned Economist
A hollow conversation with ego
I’m at a cafe. It’s already dark outside — early winter nights have already kicked in. A woman with big bangs wrapped in a thick woolen coat near me makes an annoying chewing sound. I’m waiting for an economist who works in finance and sustainable development. A friend connected us saying he could help me find work; I’ve been unemployed for more than a few months. So here I am, waiting for that shooting star to gift my sky with its presence.
Since the economist is late, I read his bio on his website. It’s too long with many names dropped. I try to keep an open mind, but I’m already tense since he seems to be someone who likes to impress and who cares about their reputation. I’m always suspicious of people who worry too much about that; it could indicate they’re not as good as they appear. I’ve met a few people like that who disappointed me.
The man arrives. He’s tall and imposing like an ancient monument, and he’s wearing a beige corduroy blazer with elbow patches.
His curious eyes linger on my figure, while mine land on the two lonely hair chunks he’s still nurturing on either side of his otherwise bald head. They’re so far apart, it must be sad — all that distance. I struggle to ogle anything else, and he notices. I seem to make him uncomfortable; when I touch my…
