2:05 The Drug Dealer

Reeling from being a fucktard, and against the advice of my therapist, I went out on a date to meet somebody new. This introduces several new kinds of stupid and wrongness on my part. Because I'm special.

The drug dealer did not present as a drug dealer on the dating app, but rather as a process engineer. Which is fascinating to me. More than that, she had a knack for simultaneously having some extremely self-deprecating stories while also presenting rock-solid self-confidence. Sure, why the fuck not, right?

The first red flag was that she did not look a lot like her profile. But, whatever.

The second and very close on the heels of the first red flag was the pervading aura of THC. That's less tolerable.

Then she waved all the red flags during our in-person conversation proceeded to explain that the process she engineered was the production and packaging of marijuana. Mostly in a legal sense... now.

Yeah, I stayed for a long while, because the stories really were fascinating. And you could sense the charm it takes to successfully navigate such a fringe territory of society. But I did nope the fuck out of there with a definite sense of needing to check my filters. Plus a need to wash my clothes and have a shower to try to reduce the transferred aura of weed on me.

Terrifyingly, I could feel myself sympathizing with her romantic plight out there on that fringe. Which is bullshit, because there's no way I need that kind of complication in my life. Ever.

So, based on this experience, coupled with my revealed fucktardedness, I swore off meeting new people for a while.