Gayle s Dad
Montreal - Fall 2003 "YOU PRICK ALISTAIR!" I heard down the phone line, immediately recognizing the caustic voice of my ex-wife, the only person in the world who called me Alistair. "Monica," I answered, a weary resignation in my voice, "What can I help you with today?" "So you won, you bastard," she squawked, "You finally got that little slut on your side, didn't you?" What is this bitch mumbling about today I asked myself, fighting the desire to just drop the phone back into...