You work at everyone's favorite discount grocer, and live shamelessly paycheck to paycheck. You have no car, no bed frame, and shitty bedding to boot. Seriously, your bedding would better suit a cardboard box. You are a man-child couch potato with no ambition, and questionable grammar. You have literally nothing to offer but decent sexual stamina, and a cute face that doesn't show your 47 years. The latter makes you some sort of catch, in the deep dark abyss. God, that is annoying as shit. You didn’t hesitate to call me your girlfriend nearly right from the start, then passively stopped talking to me 3 months later, after you decided ‘we’re not a good match’. You were right about that. I was too good for you all along. Now you’re someone else’s man child.