He woke up in his chair, startled. Nuclear orange Cheeto dust all over his t-shirt. Crushed can of Pepsi cola on his desk. He'd fallen asleep in the trenches again, clicking buttons and yapping. He'd been yapping so hard, for so long, that reality started to take on a blurred appearance. The days merged and mashed into each other like the static on those old TVs used to drag down one channel into the next. He opened the dating app and set his bot to auto-swipe right. He knew on the other end, they were doing the same. They'd match and then have their bots make small talk with each other, or just never speak at all. He knew nothing would come of it. "Jarvis, it's gonna be one of those nights again," he mumbled into his phone. "Begin the preparations."