Now, I say office, but I really mean cube. I worked in a cube farm, ubiquitous in these days. A head popped over the side of my cube. It was Dave, res...dent flaming fag and troublemaker. Hey, I had no problem with him, personally, but he was always trying to find a reason to be offended. ‘Jeff, my MAN!’ he gushed. I was *not* his man, and not even a particularly good friend, though I treated him as I would anyone else, with workplace respect. ‘Sup, Dave?’ I muttered, hoping he wasn’t going to. “What floor?”“Third ... you’re on five,” she said.“Where’s your things?”“Daddy has them,” she said.“Where is daddy?”“Third car back,” she said. “You don’t pay attention to your mirrors, do you?”Oh god, the shame ... escorted to university ... like a prisoner from the jail to Jackson.“Left.”“What?”“Left on Clark. Daddy showed me a shortcut.”“Grace ... one of daddy’s shortcuts?” I said. “You know he gets lost at the drop of a hat.”“David James Austin! Shame on you,” she said, “My daddy doesn’t. More

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