Boat's Most Unfortunate Dispositon

Like all people, Boat despised nearly everything that he did. Shaving, for instance, was a great burden to him, as was dressing and combing and brushing his teeth. His contempt for things that he did was not limited to the things he did to groom himself, though. He hated speaking with others and walking about and nodding his head and consuming the rotten meals he prepared for himself. Most of all, though, he despised being introduced to others. Hello, Boat would say in as forced a manner as possible, my name is Boat. People, being the easily amused creatures that they are, would generally laugh at this. BOAT? They would say through smiles or chuckles or both, BOAT? Yes, Boat would respond dryly, and you are? Oh, the other person would say, suddenly growing grave and serious, my name is Steven or Katherine or Bill or Sarah (there were other names too, of course, but I do not need to catalogue them all here). Boat would nod curtly at this and then turn his shoulders slightly to the side, as if this slight transposition of his body were enough to obliterate the existence of the other person altogether. In short, then, like all people (e.g. Steven or Katherine or Bill or Sarah, &c.), Boat despised nearly everything that he did, and is only natural in people with such dispositions, nearly everyone that he met.