Invisible

Two days ago, the Complete and Total Loser met with two friends and, among other things, had a drink and shared a plate of nachos with them. 
At one point, during a lull in the conversation, the Loser said, brightly, "I saw The Martian." 
Neither of his friends responded to this or acknowledged in any way that they'd heard him, which they had, they later confirmed. Instead, one brought up a different topic and they talked about that. 
This is typical for the Loser. 

Matt Damon waits for rescue in The Martian.

Saying things more forcefully or louder doesn't help; people just regard the Loser as angry or troubled. There is something about the Loser's personality that often renders him invisible in social situations. He's used to it to such a degree that at times he continues conversations he's started with himself, filling in others' parts. This amuses him, but eventually, they notice this and ask the Loser what the hell is wrong with him.
A positive aspect of being invisible, the Loser has decided, is that it will one day make his death a smooth transition.

Children's Letters to the Loser #5

Dear Complete and Total Loser,

My parents say I text my friends too much even though I don't text any more than my friends do. Besides, we have a plan that includes unlimited texting, so money's not the problem. We have agreed to listen to you.

Brendan, age 13

Dear Brendan,

Your parents should not be concerned that you text too much; they should be concerned that you text at all. As much fun as you have getting that little adrenal hit from getting a response from a text, you should be made aware that it is a shallow, moronic, low-class and sometimes dangerous form of human communication, even worse than a phone call. One reason our species has survived and done well (too well, as a matter of fact, but that's a different topic), is that we engage in complex forms of intercourse (stop snickering, all of you) that has enabled us to unite in ways few other animals can. (Except ants, maybe. Again, another topic.) If you were my son I'd take your cell phone and smash it against a hard, pointed surface. Then I'd tell you to find someone you want to talk with, look him or her in the eye, and talk. At length.

Your friend,

The Complete and Total Loser