and start being workers. The point is, though, that being a freak doesn't necessarily have anything to do with one's ability to be a worker.  I don't like other people's fear running my life. That was half of *my* point. The other half is that insisting on making one's time at work primarily a chance to impress one's personal sense of _style_ on one's coworkers, rather than about working, has a great deal to do with one's ability to be a worker. One often wonders if some of the same people wear the scarlet cleavage-y slutbomb corsets [1] and piled-up hair extensions to traditional weddings and funerals too. Learning to tone it down when appropriate is good taste, not selling out. [1] It's a Buffy thing, if anyone is wondering.