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“Most importantly, love your coupled-off, shacked-up, married friends. When they worry about you, or don’t invite you to dinner parties, or get mad that you brought that perverted lesbian as your plus-one, they probably don’t remember their halcyon, ice-cream-cake-in the-pubes days. They have smashed that frosted lotus in each other’s faces. When they look at you with their head cocked to the side, and wonder if they “know anybody for you,” remember that it’s coming from a good place. Your friends love you and want you to find a good home, just like an antique credenza or a sweet-natured pitbull with an expensive kind of blinding diabetes, who gets called Bumpy at the no-kill shelter, on account of him always running into things.”