You know what I adore?
The pink nipples on redheads. Especially those that have perfected that “Wounded Fawn” expression. Possibly it’s a lack of expression, whatever.
Also, Saki has taken to walking on the keyboard to explain his disapproval of me not attending to my chin scratching duties. And then he bites me.
Super Agent Fred and I ran into some old chums who were showing some out-of-towners the sights. Or is it “sites?” Anyway, one of them turned out to work at the Dept. of State so she and I were talking about the hilarities of government employment. After they toddled off, I realized she had not been born when I started working for the Small Business Administration and that lots of the points I referred to are ancient history to her.
Not all of them, of course, the main one being how odd it is to work in a federal agency during an election. We were supposed to be strictly apolitical, but the heads of all the agencies are appointed by the President and so the push to make all our accomplishments that much more bright and shiny was not terribly subtle. Also, since SBA had an inordinate number of political appointees, every time the administration changed, so did most of the jobs all the way down to right above my head. My what fun, watching the fatter cats sweat, knowing they were likely soon to be looking for some other cushy job.
Anyway, it was interesting gassing on about the old days to some puppy who must have mostly wondered “What the fuck?” Well, she’ll learn. I certainly did.
Meanwhile I’m going to go look for some redheads.