Don't Be a Pleb

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. Mr X, a notable but very boring lawyer on our northern side of the island, eyed me suspiciously. I had the uncanny feeling that he could read my mind. I tried to look interested.

"The way I see it," Mr X said, "it's a battle of power between USA and Europe."

To tell the truth, I had my fill of conspiracy theories. Especially from fat, phlegm-filled fascists. The Cyprus Issue, the Annan Plan - the whole caboodle - was giving me a headache.

From now on, I promised myself, when I work late I'll work from home.

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