Though I'd rather be alone, I see no option other than to sit next to him.
"Morning, Ross," I say, hoping that won't launch us into some long and involved conversation.
"Morning, Peter," he replies, "How are you doing?"
"Fine," I say, getting my laptop out onto the desk for a spot of writing.
I manage about twenty minutes before he pipes up with a technical question, something about capitalization of place names. I duly oblige him with an answer, before putting my buds back into my ears and getting on with my task.
Another thirty or so minutes go by, and he interrupts me again. This time he's giving me information on some author he mentioned previously and about an audio version of one of the guy's short stories up on YouTube.
I'm not sure if Ross has some neurological condition or perhaps a mild learning difficulty, but he's like this quite often. Ironic, given he doesn't like it himself when he's trying to work, as I seemed to sense the other day when he was muttering while me and Mahat chatted away to each other over in the study space.
In a flash of inspiration, thinking it'll shut him up, I humour Ross by asking him to email me a link to the audio story for a listen later. This he does, as he confirms a few moments later.
Still thinking about my need to find solitude to work in, I close my laptop and go to the main desk where I ask the girl if the study area will be free to use later that afternoon.
She says it will.
Ross, who has also arrived at the main desk with a similar question, asks me, "You back in after lunch?"
As I've done a few times before, I can't help but pull a face at him, not really caring whether he spots my grimace or not.
"Maybe, I'm not sure," I reply, despite already knowing the answer.
My throat feels dry. I could really use a drink right now.
Proverbs 20:1 - KJV
