(In a bar somewhere in Chicago, two men in their late twenties lament about their mundane problems. All over a few beers.)
Bill: She was the type of person that got tattoos that said "peace" or something in Chinese.
Ray: You're kidding me. (has a tattoo of marijuana on his neck)
Bill: Not even. And you know what's really rich?
Ray: Hmm?
Bill: She said she was a Sagittarius within ten seconds of introducing herself.
Ray: HAHAHA!
Bill: That just about made me get up and leave and make her pay for her damn tempeh, but, you know...
Ray: I know. But you're a nice guy.
Bill: Something like that.
Ray: (shakes his head in frustration) Working at the burger joint is so tiring, man. It's like every day there's gotta be somebody that 's gotta take it out on me because they caught their boyfriend cheating or they got laid off or they dry cleaner screwed up their favorite suit. It's like, all I wanna know is if you want fries or onion rings, you know what I'm sayin'?
Bill: (nods sympathetically and takes a drink) I feel ya. The office is a drag too.
Ray: I get home, man, and it's a different side of me. At work I'm all smiles and "would you like ketchup with that?", but I walk in that front door and I gotta let it out. Try being quiet for once, calms you down. I've gotta relax sometimes, you know?
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