If you asked me to describe the worst blind date ever, it would go something like this: We arrive at an abandoned warehouse for drinks. My date looks like a cross between John Malkovich and Britney Spears when she was struggling. I can tell I’m gonna need to get drunk to get through this. But first, for no discernible reason, we have to build an entire fucking bar from scratch. Now I’m sweating. Midway through the date, it’s revealed that the person I’m working with is an actual...
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