Angler

I'm an Angler.

Situations arise, circumstances present themselves, and I take. Throughout the conversations of the day I stand like a poacher, waiting to pounce on the nearest and clearest opening. To listen, but not really listen, until the moment for my say has come. The moment when my angle is clear, practically asking me to follow it.

There are two in this conversation, sometimes three or four. But really, there is only one. Only one, more often than there are more. I'm an Angler. I fish and wait for my opportunity.

Is every meeting, every confrontation, every joy tarnished by my greedy fingers? Are there times when I will ask the questions? Times when I will steer this ship to areas better for others?

I'm looking for angles.

Where's my angle?

Do you feel it when I talk to you? Do you notice my dazed look? The glassy eyes, the attention but not real attention.

Someone will find out. Someone will cry foul, and stare me down with an expression of disdain and they'll walk out.

There's always an angle. For all of us. Some just take it more than others. Or they take it every time. I may be even taking the angle with this.

I AM AN ANGLER.