"Please see me in my office, right away!" a curt woman'svoice came over the phone. And that voice, it sounded like arat's scraping its bitchy claws ag...inst a cold, cold chalkboard,juxtaposed against such a beautiful summer day. The voice seemedthrilled at the prospect. Of course, it was that bitch from HR.And yes, it was clear enough to me - this is the sound of gettingfired - again.I hung up the phone and looked down dejectedly from my officewindows, looked far down below to the street. Eyes. ===========================================================================It was Sunday, the most productive day for my mother. Men, after spending the weekend with their wives and girlfriends, partying and shopping looked for cheap thrills and quick ways to relax before another week began. Mom always described her Sunday clients as tortured souls looking for salvation before the vampires buried their fangs and drew blood for rest of the week. "Guys on Sunday are typically married and pay. More

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