On any given day, 97% of my energy is expended on pretending to tolerate people.
Especially that guy at the office who keeps bringing his pet dog into work. Like, I get that the soul-crushing divorce hit you hard and she took more than half the stuff, but you don’t have to overcompensate by proving to us you have one friend.
And the one friend is friends with him involuntarily. If he stops feeding the dog, then that’s zero friends.
It’s a quid pro quo if you ask me.
Also, lose the mustache. It’s not 1976 anymore. We drive cars and have electricity now.