I worked along side a man named Mo. it was short for something more professional sounding, less self-fulfilling, but irony was lost on him. As was any sense of appropriateness, gauging people's interest, knowing the correct distances to stand near someone, and how to turn down the creepy. He was nice. And older. But it wasn't a solo opinion that he leveraged what he hoped would by sympanthy for his age and appreciation of his openness to speak to everyone in ways that negatively affected others. For instance, he was caught eating other people's food in our shared break room's fridge. And when confronted? He was dumbfounded, almost affronted. We are talking maybe 60 years old, not 96 years old. Personally, on a scale between personal space and empathy, my personal space always wins. His greatest attribute? The words which seemingly spewed thoughltessly from him mouth. And since he was a salesperson, all onlookers knew his agenda clearer than the poor victims on the other line, and we still had no idea what anything meant.
Here's the first of many:
"Um, excuse me, are you in my time zone? MY time zone? Do you know what I am getting at?"