There is this small Jamaican restaurant/ grocerteria, I enjoy visiting when I am in the neighborhood. It serves some great tasting ethnic dishes.  Usually, I take it to go, sit in my van and listen to talk radio.  Just like on the islands,  they are not in a rush and so I usually spend time inspecting the grocery part  for ox tails,  dried shrimps and shrunken monkey testicals. 
There is this unusual black man that stands in the middle of the store, staring straight out the front door.  He has some facial scars and if you ask him a question his reply sounds as if  the tip of his tongue has been removed. 

This little man stands at the ready, waiting for  instruction.  I'm not sure if after nearly ten years of being a customer, he recognizes me, but he certainly  knows his position.