You sit down at your desk one morning to find the ledge overlooking your cubicle a veritable livestock parade of plastic farm animals your new Midwestern coworker has mounted there. “Reminds me of home,” he announces happily.
Or you walk into your dorm room and find your roommate has loaded your shared refrigerator with so many frozen Boca burgers your newly purchased sorbet is doomed to be a puddle by morning.
Turf tugs of war make seem to make us seethe quicker than any other injustice. And they breed retaliatory behaviors, snarling little neighborhood dogs of resentment. You really don’t like your cubicle neighbor’s accent. Health food is now accompanied by a sneer when you talk about it. That’s the trail Karen Zacaías’ “Native Gardens” is on, and Gulfshore Playhouse’s production follows it to its explosive denouement.