Why do they ask?

A guy, after telling me of his travails of late, asked me what I’ve been up to. He story went on so long and was so repetitive that, as often happens with me, I went on autopilot and my head went wherever dangerous landscape it wanders to.

“Yeah, things have sucked for me lately, too.” I say. “I lost a ton of money on this web site.”

“Really?” He feigns interest. “What kind of web site?”

“Porn.”

“Oh, yeah, that would be tough. There are so many sites to get it for free.”

“Nah, that wasn’t it. I just underestimated the market for chicks with ticks.”

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