Tim whipped around on his heels. “Excuse me?”
Tim stared at his shoes. A watermark had formed on his left loafer. Now, he was being told he was less competent than a three year old. He didn’t know what was worse: Jim’s two-year-old son knowing how to empty his junk in the urinal properly, or knowing that it only took the brainpower of a three-year-old to do his job.