Judy The Booty Slight Return
The windows in Gregg Barnhart's office were open. A white oscillating fan whirred atop a filing cabinet. Papers strewn across the thirtysomething guidance counselor's desk lifted briefly, then fell back into place. Barnhart tugged at the collar of his button-down shirt. It was early August, two weeks before the start of a new school year. And it was hot. "Man, I really wish these cheapskates would shell out some money for air conditioning in here." The tall lanky man griped as he...