So like most men I like tohave something to read when I am on the crapper. I think it is a genetic thing, why men need to read to excavate the end of the food chain. But be that as it may, because of this, I have a couple of magazines and a book or two at work that I will take with me when I go above ground. One of the books on my shelf is the latest by Brad Meltzer, Book of Fate. If you have the chance I suggest you pick it up, it is a fun read. Within the plot of the story the Freemasons are used pretty liberally (this seems to be a theme lately. I am calling it the Dan Brown Effect). Well, my real boss (not the one I have to deal with upstairs from time to time) came to see me at my cubicle last week before she left for her Christmas vacation, and she noticed the book on my shelf. But it isn't the name of the book or the author that she noticed. It was the sign of the Masons on the spine that she saw. She asked me if I was a Freemason. Thankfully for me I just answered with a generic "no" and didn't make any flippant comments. This is a good thing because she then told me that her husband was a Freemason. And all I could think was that I had better be careful, lest I bring the wrath of the organization down on me. Which means that I had better conduct my job search with care.
If he was also a Scientologist, I would be totally screwed.
BSR
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