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- Archive-name: side-effects
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- Being careful not to bump into anything in my tiny kitchen, I set the
- two plates of pasta on the card table in the kitchen of my co-op
- apartment. Sitting down and looking at the stunning red-head, seated
- across from me, chattering away about being fired from her job, I
- reflected that often the only thing worse than not having close friends
- is having them. Lynda was beautiful, perfectly built, one of my best
- friends ... and always complaining to me about of some kind of
- disaster.
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- Lately, it's been money. While I had to respect anyone who would try
- to put themselves through Clear Mountain University, one of the
- country's most expensive private schools, Lynda didn't seem to have the
- foggiest conception of how to do it. She had held a succession of
- low-paying, odd jobs trying to make ends meet. Yesterday afternoon,
- she was fired from the drive-through window at Instant Burger, her
- latest attempt at making ends meet, when she confessed to the manager
- that all of her wrong ring-ups were because certain, um, anatomical
- attributes blocked her view of the keys. And, as always, I invited her
- over for lunch and let her cry on my shoulder.
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