Small Places : Nick L Belardes [54 of 128]

• Can't picture a Wookie among them can you? Or even among rebel fishhead telemarketers. Their cubicles would stink, but not like a Wookie.
• As bad is it might get with Clone Coffee Wars and hot babes decked in grey, I just can't picture Chewie stapling forms or designing ads.
• And in this case, practically running a company? Might as well buy into Milt's philosophy that the color red is a genuine disco ad theme.
• Shoot me now because Chewie has Milt imitating her cackle in some kind of corporate code that can only mean more work and less web surfing.
• Seventeen.
• Suddenly Milt trusts me. I don't think he trusts himself. He calls me into his office. "It's time for a talk," he says. The door closes.
• Milt: "I need to know about people." Me: "You're the manager." Milt: "Tell me about your coworkers. You seem to know them all." Me: "What?"
• I suddenly want back in my cubicle. No wonder dogs like kennels. There's a degree of solace when mindlessly thrown a bone while in a cave.