“…you know, this job is only to keep me busy during the day,” the lab tech said, rummaging around for pipette.
“Really?” I said.
“Yep. My wife is a professional. She earns the bucks.”
“Good for her.”
“That’s why I married her.”
“For her job?”
“Yep. Listen to me, Bad4. You want to be happy, marry for money.”
“Marry for money,” I echoed in disbelief.
“Marry for money. Because even if the person drives you crazy—well, at least you can enjoy yourself, you know?”
“So your wife drives you crazy?”
“Oh, no. I love her, Bad4. Love her to pieces. But I didn’t when we got married. It grew, afterwards. Love can come later. It did, Bad4. We’ve been married fifteen years. Take my advice: marry for money.”