“First off, my date du jour, Johnathan, grows pot in a closet in his apartment. I know what you’re thinking—I’ve hit the dating jackpot already, right? But wait, it gets better. Then he wants me to try every strain of pot he grows. Then, he tries smoking something that he claims makes him a ‘sexual god,’ takes off his shirt, and starts dancing spastically to some Insane Clown Posse. I thought he was having a seizure.” I grimace. “This was the first date?” “Nope.” Vicki sighs. “The second. The first one was at a café literally next door to his apartment, trying to convince me to come over and
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