You order another drink and talk to the person. The conversation is amazing. They're witty, they're smart, they're stunningly beautiful. You talk and talk and talk. It's like a Christian Mingle commercial if it ended with the couple groping one another until the bar closes. You forget your friends, the cancelled healthcare, the pain in the ass assignment due in the morning, you forget everything and follow the person to their apartment.
Short story: You have a great night.
Long Story: You have a great night, but you don't finish your assignment. Now you're broke and you lose your apartment. You meet with the person again, but it's not the same when they have to pick you up from your mom's, and they really hate it when you try to crash on their couch.
Come on, you're a freelancer. There's no time for love.
Are you concerned that you may be a character trapped in a Tom Waits song? Be smart and learn the warning signs before it's too late. Also, it's too late. It has always been too late.
I'm haunted by a recurring vision of a skeleton flipping me off. To avoid seeing this terrifying image in bumper sticker form, I pay someone with a blank bumper to drive in front of me at all times.
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