That afternoon, he was uneasily installed behind a tiny, dark-wood desk. That morning, he’d chosen a chimera of a lime green shirt matched with a black necktie with dirty white stripes...or a white necktie with faded black stripes. If planned as a weapon to disorient me, then first blood to him. While he negotiated a small insurance claim with me, my eyes tried to negotiate a huge, yellow splotch out of his tie. Both negotiations failed. We agreed to come back another day. I then escaped from this semi-piebald-semi-skewbald circus.