"Look how clean the glass is!" my boss says of the freshly polished windows in her office. "They're practically invisible."
"It almost makes me not want to pull the shades," she says, struggling with the strings to lower the blinds, "but I don't want to, you know, be on display for everyone down on the street."
The city rushes by several stories below, heads down, ignoring the beautiful spring day, and I shrug, saying, "I don't think they care."