He was always there. He never leaves, only when we close. He sat in the same position every day, and purchased the same meal every day. And every day, I sat at the register and watched him. He never talked, he never did anything. He didn't even eat his meal. I tried talking to him once, but he didn’t respond, which lead me to think that he was mute. I didn’t know his name or how old he was, but I guessed he was about twenty. Maybe he was younger, but no older. I liked to call him Spencer, and that’s what everyone at work called him. The world seemed to move around him, but in his world, time just didn’t move.