What do you mean, "what tether?" I have tethers.
There are four men who work in the store next to my office. One, we'll call him Shoeless Joe, is leaving in a week to go on location in Morocco (lucky bastard) to film The Hills Have Eyes 2. I'll miss him. He makes me laugh. The second, we'll call him Potential-Rifle-Toting-Mass-Murderer, has just given his two-week notice. Number Three, we'll call him Annoying McFriendly, says "hey, how you doing" to me every time he sees me, which would be okay if he didn't see me 15 times a day. Also, it's not an upbeat greeting; it's more the way you would greet someone you're visiting in the hospital or who has just lost a loved one--somber and concerned. The last guy, we'll call him Gaylien (draw your own conclusions), is just tolerable. He drops these non-sequitars designed to be funny, but they are NOT funny. Believe me, I know funny.
Those of you who know me will not be surprised when I say that PRTMM is my favorite. He doesn't speak much, but will glance askew with a bemused grin and a cocked eyebrow at the others when they say something stupid. For this, I adore him. But he's leaving me and I'll be stuck with Downer Boy and Not Funny. Do you know how hard it is to carry on a conversation with these guys? Even a simply work-related conversation is an exercise in futility.
I'll miss you, PRTMM, you crazy bastard.