Of
course, there’s the ubiquitous McDonald’s with its typically ugly red
and yellow nightmarish color pattern and hulking golden arches.But even
that can easily be forgiven. Really. This is still a beautiful place to
work in and I can’t believe I’m driving to work here for the last time.
I decided to shake off my pitiful, pining sentimentality, for now at
least, and focus on getting a parking slot.

“Mike, would you be still my friend if I had three eyes, facial hair, genital herpes and a Jewish husband?” Maffy
says nudging me with an elbow.I’ve been friends with her long enough to
know that when she comes up with these daft scenarios she’s after one
of two things.It’s either she’s making an attempt at being funny or
she’s trying to irritate you to a point where you’d want Adolf Hitler
to stir from his grave, give away free beer and have another go at
genocide.More often than, not she succeeds in achieving the latter.I
don’t know if it’s just me, but I honestly don’t get the kind of dry
humor these Am-girls have.

“I
can stop the motor that turns the world. Oh yes I can.”I learned
through time that responding with something that’s totally unrelated to
what Maffy is asking throws her completely off balance and puts her in
line…