There was almost nothing about the way Steve looked that couldn’t have been mass produced in a factory. He was smartly dressed in a way that betrayed no personal affection, his short dark curls of his hair greased down and formed into a shape which allowed for minimal upkeep that camouflaged him at his workplace. His brown eyes, smooth chin and symmetrical features were not ugly, but could never be complimented beyond the term “normal”. The sum of these factors allowed Steve safety from any accusation or ridicule that may arise were he unusual in any visible manner which in turn afforded him a sort of peace as he sat surrounded by glass, staring at spreadsheets and smiling smugly at having skipped over degrading role of being an intern and straight into paid work, courtesy of his uncle who occupied a position somewhere further up, which he could never name nor understand.

This morning, he passed the time by adjusting his over-priced ergonomic office seat before answering his mobile phone, which had been ringing unattended all morning. Holding the handset to his ear, he listened for a few moments before pulling the phone away and holding it in front of his face and speaking before returning the phone to his ear once again. This punctuated his phone calls in a peculiar fashion, earning him the dubious title of “robot answer phone” among his clients.