41
Mr Chris Green
Outward appearance
Shaved temples, dyed blonde hair. Earring. White jacket and slacks, bovver boots. Broad-shouldered, slim waisted. Very fit looking except for old tobacco-stained hands. Sits reading Clive Barker's Books of Blood. Inside information
A qualified psychologist going for a job interview as a karate instructor at the Multi-Use Resource Centre, Lambeth North. Also rock-climbs and plays in a band.Chris's last full time job was in the Personnel Department of Hackney Council. His boss was another idiot. He thought staff were depressed for psychological reasons. In Hackney? "They're only depressed because they have to work for peanuts for you," Chris told his boss and walked out. Then he sent the Council a letter detailing why staff hated working for the elected officials of both parties.
He now offers aromatherapy to clients he terrifies; classes in communication to computer geeks at whom he shouts. Saturdays he arranges flowers and delivers them to restaurants. He makes flowers look angry. His clients try to like them, but the exclamations die in their throats. They are too frightened to complain.
At least people who learn karate will be more durable. He thinks.
What he is doing or thinking
The stench of passenger 39 is like what Chris feels most of the time. Nothing works, and he is 34 years old. At college people clustered around him, in clubs everybody used to know him. He knows he's smart, strong, fast, clever. He knows he has something, but it always escapes him, and the world is run by fools whom he frightens. It should be the other way around.
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