This was written on short notice for Esoterotica’s NSFW-themed show, so it went a little…base, let’s say…with its humor. But I never liked cream sauces anyway.
Nocturnal Admissions: You Can’t Fire Me, I Hit It & Quit It
By Zach Bartlett
I would have known that Warren was a chef, even if most of his stories didn’t involve coke at some point, because he always wore those houndstooth-patterned pants. He scheduled his appointments right after his shifts so that he’d be sure to have a good hour of coked-up lucidity before he had to pass out for the morning. Mostly we deal with his job-related stress, but last night was the first time we dealt with some relationship trouble.
“I need to find a new gig, that’s what’s pissing me off,” he began.
“I thought things were going well? You work with your dealer.”
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