Dale was late for work, and for the first time ever, Pat was early. Early. On a Friday morning. Normally, she wouldn't come in on Friday morning, showing up maybe an hour or so into the afternoon. But there she was . big and Betty Crocker-faced, white blouse, business jacket and all. She was frowning. She was always frowning, but today her frown took on new significance.

She actually had something to frown about as she stood by her desk, all starched collar and heavy perfume. This was a frown of self-righteous, better-than-thou, caught-you-in-the-act legitimacy.

Dale would have balked, but he was too excited about the large plastic bag he had in his hand. That was why he was late. He'd stopped off at the hardware store to buy something that, if everything went well, might just change his life.

"Whatcha got there, Claw? Hope whatever it is, it's worth coming in late and putting your job on the line for." The frown changed to a scornful smile.

"Sorry about being late, Pat," said Dale. "I just thought . it being Friday and all . and I put in some overtime this week."

"Stow it, Claw. What's in the bag?"

Dale smiled immediately, his eyes neon with excitement. He lay the bag on his desk and pulled out a long clear plastic package. "Going to take up a new hobby," he said. He turned the package so that Pat could see a complete angler's set: rod and reel, fiberglass line, spinners and sinkers, two lures, an assortment of tiny black hooks, and a small plastic box to store the equipment.

Pat stared at the plastic package. Then she looked at Dale, and then back to the package.

And she burst out laughing. She laughed so hard her face turned red. She laughed for at least two minutes before the laughter started to break up into quick gasps for air and gurgling sounds that could have been strangled guffaws or screams from her stomach. She pointed a thick finger at Dale and smiled meanly while she brought her breathing under control. "You — you wouldn't be able to catch a cold if it bit your nose." Her eyes widened and she fell into her chair, shrieking with wild laughter.

Dale just stared at her. She laughed and she laughed, pointing her finger at him, slamming her fist onto her desktop. Not a muscle on Dale's face moved as Pat laughed until she'd exhausted her stockpile of vindictive mirth. Then she shook her head, stood up and walked across the office to Dale. She took the fishing kit out of his hand, stared at it a moment, smiling even more scornfully now, and shook her head again. She tossed the kit on his desk, snapped around quickly and walked to the office door. Before leaving, she turned to Dale and said: "Have a great weekend with your new hobby, Claw."

Dale could hear her laughing all the way down the hall, until finally, the elevator doors smothered the sound.

He looked at the fishing kit on his desk and smiled.