Same old saving grace

Bored bored bored bored bored.
Here I am again. Same seat, same computer, same segregation from the rest of my working world. My face is open with a desire to help. The expression is real - I do want to help - any interaction is welcome.
As time ticks by the smile grows vacant, eventually freezing to a rictus. People pass me, unaware. Hundreds - well over a thousand. The odd nod of acknowledgment and a few genuine requests for help keep the monotony at bay, but the steady stream slows to a trickle, and my smile dies with it.
Everybody is different. From the moment of conception to the dying breath - no two lives are alike. In crowds, though, individuality takes a knock. Some are lovely, some are friendly, some are dicks. Most are oblivious, blinkered into their own world or lost in the collective one - made nervous by the proximity to so many others.
Like sheep.
The worst they can really do is ignore me - at least the odd rude one is entertaining. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred I'm surplus to requirements, but I thank my lucky stars I'm not dealing with their empty bellies. There's something about buying food that brings out the very worst in people.
For me though, it's not the people. People are just people - the world over. It's the same-old same-old that sinks my spirits and sabotages my smile.
But all is not doom and gloom. It's not my colleagues that lift my spirits on these long lonely nights - i barely see anyone, it's not even the computer that sits in front of me - with its world wide web of ones and zeroes encoding the entirety of human knowledge - it only really serves to shift the boredom from upper case to lower. What lifts my spirits is the view.
The arc'd metal icons that span the silvery snake of the river from bank to bank. The fiery sunset echoing the shape of the bridges, it's light catches the shimmering water and it explodes in every shade, glittering from red to gold.
Some things never grow old.