Hi.  My name is Patrick.  I mean, wouldn’t it be great if the the district manager walked by about now and saw me talking into this microphone.  Right out in front of the store.  He’d fire me on the spot.  Jerk.  He’d do me a favor.  I’m too chicken to quit.  But, you know, it’s hard to find a job with just an associates degree.  I think the only reason he hasn’t fired me already is that he’s gay.  Really.  No.  He hasn’t come out.  But you can tell. Hell, you find someone who says they can’t, and I’ll show you a liar.  The f---er hits on me every time he’s in the store.  He knows I’m married.  He knows I have kids.  How much straighter can you be?  You know the way they act.  He’ll put his hand on my shoulder while he’s talking to me.  And he always gets up real close.  And he’s always screwing with his hair.  Damn.  When I was back in the Navy, we'd pound those fairies.  There was one little f---er they had to keep in the brig from the entire crew just to keep him from getting killed.  And they would’ve done it, too.  And I don’t see how I could blame them.