Once. When I was still working. I was at a meeting. You know. Those soul sucking sesspools of bullshit? Then I came back to my office, cubicle, cell. I had three other inmates working there with me and I needed to talk to one of them.
"Nancy," I said as I walked into the hovel we call work.
"Yes, Sir," she said.
I stopped. Wait. What was that? That strange thing I was feeling? Was that... respect?
I said, "Can I go outside and come back in and have you say that again?"
No. Probably not.
Well, it was good while it lasted.