On our lunch breaks we planned a union-organizing drive for the office. We would go to this café that was small enough that we could see everyone in there (no eavesdroppers), far enough away that it didn’t really make sense to walk there and back (no one would look for us there), a little too expensive to be reasonable (too decadent for two dirtbags). “I’m a socialist, because if capitalism worked I’d be rich,” Teo explained to me after we had ordered scrambled eggs prepared with crème fraîche. “We’re friends now,” I said.