“I’m sorry I drunk texted you all night last night.”

“Trace? What the hell time is it?”

“Um, ten o’clock here so I guess seven o’clock there?”

“Trace, I don’t care if you drunk text me all night. Drunk text all you want but don’t call me at seven in the morning on a Saturday and wake me up to apologize for it.”

“Okay, um… But do you still have an OkCupid profile?”

“Oh shit, okay. I can see you’re not going to go away. Hold on.” I could hear Zeke pull himself out of bed and move to the bathroom. He clicked the door shut. Then he reemerged and I heard the familiar flick of a lighter to light his cigarette. “Alright, what’s going on?”
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