“Perfect. I’ll get right on that. Shall you show me the rest of the space?” “Sure,” I say, thinking that maybe this assistant thing won’t be as bad as I thought. First, she takes care of the mouse—RIP, you mangy rodent—and now my very own fiddle leaf fig tree. Wow. I won’t let her know how excited I am about the prospect of having one. And in a fucking basket . . . talk about living the good life. My apartment will be unmatched compared to the other guys. Halsey might have a bonsai tree, but I’ll have a giant, and I mean leaves taking up the apartment space giant, fiddle leaf fig plant that
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