Stephen

There was something off-putting about Stephen. In fact, if one were to judge, he was probably the one who fit in the least with the rest of us, this is even considering the 42 year old Army Captain from Maryland, and the overweight pilot from Iowa.

Part of it was the way he dressed: as though he was preparing for an 80's Lounge Party. His balding also made me a little suspiscious. Not of steroids, of course, he was far too skinny for that, but just in general; I made it a rule a long time ago to not trust balding people.

As soon as he opened his mouth, I recognized his accent: he was from Georgia. He always had a question to ask: some clarification to the point that had been plaguing him. He was taking from our valuable time.

When we all shared our goals, most were simple: to become more social and be better with goals. He had a slightly different cant. He had been training and practicing NLP, or Neuro-Linguistic Programming. It was a study of how the mind learns and interprets language, medically used to treat traumatic disorders. When used by guys like Stephen, it was a way to use language to take emotional shortcuts. In short, it was like little, linguistic hypnosis. He wanted, he explained, to use all of these skills in conjunction and be a life coach. It was a glorious lifestyle, to be sure.

Sandy blonde whisps clung desperately atop his head as he craned his neck back to ask a question in his Southern drawl. I was ashamed of my Southernness for a moment, that I should be lumped in with him.