There’s a story about a grocery chain that had a long-term and very serious inventory theft problem at one of its stores. Nobody could catch it –even plainclothes cops wandering around shopping all day. Finally one day the longtime manager disappeared, left the country for parts unknown. That’s about when someone finally noticed there weren’t ten checkout stations as per design & accounting, but eleven –the 11th identical to the others and busily transacting, but generating no records. The cash had been going into the pockets of that suddenly-disappeared manager, natch.

F&F reminds me of that 11th checkout counter, with the difference that upper management knew about it along, but didn’t want to be branded as racist homophobes by that store manager, and so just looked the other way and hoped and hoped that not too too many folks would choose that checkout line.