He found himself a peripheral player. A witness, who had seen nothing. A waiter. Wait and see. Wait and see.
He saw nothing.
He did nothing.
There was no one to contact. Don't call us we'll call you, only we won't call you.
Rosecrans and Guildenstern Are Dead. Only they're not dead yet, they're still on the boat holding the letter sealed in the envelope. Was he Rosencrans or was he Guildenstern? Probably Guildenstern, knowing his luck. Open the envelope Guildenstern! Don't betray Hamlet! He's crazy! He's going to swap the letter, and you're going to die! But, no, he wasn't Guildenstern, he was some fourth friend of them all. Even Guildenstern had a Guildenstern.
He opened his mail. Junk mail in weak disguise. Catalogs in pamphlet form. He returned his Netflix immediately, unwatched, just so he could get something nice in the mail.
He checked his e-mail. He read the news online. He could do his job, but he had to wait for the key detail.
Vladimir and Estragon waiting for Godot. Vladimir and Guildenstern. Simon and Garfunkle on a Paul Simon solo tour. Slip Sliding Away.
Slip Sliding Away.
Even if you get no nearer to your destination you're still slip sliding away.