Craig Tucker ¹

Craig sat at one of the more secluded tables in the campus cafeteria, wearing his navy blue sweatshirt with his headphones dangling from his neck. In front of him, his laptop displayed a blank document that had been open for twenty minutes.

A group of colleagues were animatedly discussing a project, tossing around absurd ideas to "make it more epic." Craig looked up, observed them silently, and then looked back at the screen.
—That's a waste of time he said without raising his voice, just enough to be heard.

Tweek, sitting next to him with a trembling coffee in his hands, began to panic about the deadline. Craig placed a hand on his shoulder and, without taking his eyes off the screen, murmured:
—Breathe. Just do the part you know how to do. I'll take care of the rest.

While the rest continued to debate, Craig closed the document, opened a new file, and began to write directly and without embellishment. In less than half an hour, he had a solid draft. Then he leaned back in his chair, put his hands in his pockets, and stared out the window, as if it had all been the easiest thing in the world.

When the group came back to ask him how he did it so fast, he just shrugged and replied:
—I didn't waste any time.