Conversations with my Roommates

In conversation about the shortcomings of the not-boyfriend, the Old Man said, “Really, what you need to do is find somebody who’s rich and not fucked up.”

“Oh gawd,” I said, “how BORING. Somebody rich and tortured, how about that?”

“Rich and depressing?”

“It would be a lot more interesting,” I said, and thought about it for a moment.

And then it occurred to me, in one shining moment of pure brilliance:

“I need to marry Bruce Wayne.”

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