“I’m sorry?” I quizzed him.“That is what they call you, isn’t it?” He laughed again.At work, I had a reputation for not mixing with the ot...er staff. I like to keep my personnel life private.“A drink beckons,” Ian ushered us into the bar. As we sat down, I offered my cigarettes around, with no takers. I lit my mine, sucked in and exhaled a plume of smoke.“You look like you needed that”; Ian quipped, as he made himself comfortable, stretching his muscular legs along the sofa.“I did, Martin. Guys aren't supposed tosmell 'pretty'."Makki told me how much nicer my hair looked the next time that she sawme and got this look of horror on her face when I said that I was goingto get it cut. "No way! It looks so nice now, you don't want to get itcut. You just need to trim the ends a little - I can do that for you.And you just need to part it like this," and she pulled a comb out ofher backpack and combed and arranged my hair a little and then said,"There. Comb it that way." Yes boss," I. More

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