Mr. Suit Doosh. Beams me a violent looks could kill, disapproving of what I can't specifically say. Maybe it's the scruffy hair, the black jeans, the brown hoodie, the hiking boots. Maybe he's just homicidal in the morning.
My company's COO comes by in a track suit, loads his plate with ham. Could be awkward: we're not mutual fans. But he's friendly.
Just another mad, mad day, on the road.