Bitchin'

"What am I doing here?" Victor Gardner wanted to know.

"He coulda been a contender," jibed one of his colleagues.

"He coulda been on the MTV," suggested another.

"He coulda gone for his MBA and be polishing his BMW," said a third.

"Or he might have joined the Army," a fourth put in, "and went off to work on his tan."

Gardner gave the woman a ferocious glare.

"Sorry."