Vic called to me as he walked by my office. I looked up from the stack of folders on my desk, grabbed my coffee and followed my boss to his office. I wound my way through the boxes and stacks of papers, files and law books that sat in the hallway between our offices and found Vic shuffling through the mess that he called his desk.“What do you need...besides someone to organize that rat’s nest?” I asked. Vic looked at me meaningfully.“You volunteering?” he asked in return. Vic was middle-aged but you’d hardly know it but for the grey in his beard. His head was shaven and he wore a hoop in one ear. Vic worked out a lot and under his dress shirt and tie, his arms, and presumably his chest too, were covered in tattoos. As usual his sleeves were rolled up to his mid forearm, his tie was worn loosely and even though it was only nine in the morning, Vic looked like he’d been at work for ten hours.“Um, no. Thanks anyway. You should really look for a bigger place, you know,”
