He was tall, well perhaps just a bit above average height . . . Simon stopped for a moment to consider . . . ‘tall’ he decided, but not freakishly so. He was handsome too in a dark way. Midnight brown eyes in a almost Mediterranean face that was always fresh shaved, framed by a button down collar on a crisply ironed checked shirt. And thinly tailored blue dress trousers with fashionably brown leather shoes, Simon added, not wishing to leave the picture unfinished. He spoke easily and confidently, in a mid range voice, with hints of bass, smiling slightly at small hints of jokes he made, and serious in turn, rotating both. His intelligence was thrusting and deep and quick. Yet he chatted affably and easily as a friend to a friend, and equal to an equal, giving no hint of superiority.
I guess that’s why Simon felt annoyed.