Robert Harmon, Part I

I was at my job and my replacement showed up; he was the guy who was going to take my job over so I could go on and do something else. His name was Robert, and began the day by reciting me some poetry. I guess I didn't respond very positively, or at all, actually, because he seemed kind of offended. I felt like I had hurt his feelings and I shold say something.

I struggled to remember what he had said. I asked him to repeat it, but he refused. It was some kind of poem using his full name, which was Robert Harmon. It went something like: "My name is Robert, last name Harmon/ there is no one, that I'm harmin'/ I hate this job, but it beats farmin'/ I hope you don't find my rhymes alarmin'.”

That's from memory, so that might not be exactly right. Anyway, the frustrating thing was that I just wanted to tell him I thought it was funny, and nice that he came into work with a poem about his name. And I'd be happy to critique it if he wanted me to, or I could just simply enjoy it. But he kept moving further and further away from me, like a light disappearing down a long tunnel. I felt that communication was somehow impossible, and the whole encounter was very frustrating.