The first Chad sighting was by a coffee shop window that I peered into, with the homeless man crumpled up with ragged sheets, on clear whether he was alive or dead. Yet Chad sat there, dressed like he was coming from a vineyard but probably heading to a CrossFit certification. Notebook open, eyes scanning the room with the energy of someone who already knows he’s "won."

He looked up. Our eyes locked. Was this it? Was this the fabled "moment" I’ve waited 39+ years for?

But Chad didn’t move, didn’t beckon. He just was. I, naturally, walked past, because what else are you supposed to do when you’ve just encountered perfection? My mind spiraled. Should I turn back? Say something? Offer him… what? A Safeway Club Card? A verbal Petition for Relevance?

I detoured into a Safeway to grab something—anything—so I wouldn’t seem aimless. A zucchini. The produce section, as you'll see, is always a reliable backup.

Armed with my sad, phallic offering, I passed the window again. Chad didn’t chase me. He didn’t even blink. Of course he didn’t. Chads don’t run—they wait. My hands gripped the bag as I silently vowed to haunt this exact street every Sunday at 2 p.m. indefinitely, just in case this Chad ever ble$$ed it again.

Meanwhile, the "apps" were no better. Everyone on them was a Chad imitator or, worse, Chad aspirational.

One messaged me to ask, “What are you looking for?” As if I would ever admit, “You, but on a leash.” Instead, I tried to act like a non-sociopath, and responded that I am “open to whatever :)!.”

He replied that he wanted a “consistent connection, not a relationship.” Classic Chad maneuver: redefine "dating" as a $ubscription $ervice where all the system "upgrades" benefit him.

We actually met. But he didn’t laugh at my NYT fake article poasts or admire that I balance and equity partner law practice, a nighttime Safeway manager gig, and three XO accounts.

This is Chad’s way of asserting dominance. I tested his limits with sarcasm, but it ricocheted off his pristine jawline. We walked, talked, and when I suggested at least a hug, he stared at my arms like they were receipts from an expense account. “It’s a hug,” I clarified, as if Chad needed reminding.

His text afterward? “Sorry, that was obviously a hug.” Chad doesn’t apologize; Chad narrates.

Then there was the "swim Chad." $eaTTTle. January. An indoor pool. Because where better to showcase one’s physical superiority? He waded in, flawless. I followed, because how do you not? After a minute, he wanted to turn back, probably because even perfection has nerves.

We emerged; I bought him tea. He must’ve felt vulnerable in that moment, damp and mortal. We laughed. I mentioned drinking menstrual blood because I thought Chad might find it edgy, but instead he fled. Later, he texted, “Maybe best to call things here.” A polite dismissal, as if I hadn’t already made a shrine to his red beanie in my mind.

The "party Chad" was next, standing in a corner, perfectly aloof. Just my type, and I consider myself blessed because I’m usually not the "going out" type. I approached, we exchanged pleasantries, but the connection fizzled. Even Chads have off days.

Then, there was "canal Chad," who invited me over at 9:30 p.m. I found coverage for my nighttime grocery shift in advance of formalizing plans, cautiously optimistic. His pitch was intimacy-as-bureaucracy: a meticulously negotiated fling masquerading as enlightenment. “I see sex as an outgrowth of intimacy,” I texted, and Chad ghosted faster than a Safeway manager hearing the words “union vote.”

Work, naturally, continues not to help. Between nights drafting Safeway compliance reports to my regional division manager, and fielding incessant calls throughout the day from Perkins Coie’s board members alerting me that annual billing generation and in-office presence are being increasingly scrutinized, there was no time for existential clarity—just more grind.

Mainlining would’ve called it surrender and moved into the mountains. Boom would’ve blown it up, a final fuck you to ADM and corporate Amerikka.

But I just kept walking, crossing streets and scanning grocery aisles for some remnant of "humanity."

I’ve since deleted the "apps." Chads don’t live in algorithms; they live in windows, on streets, in cafes where the light hits them just right.

Every Sunday at 2 p.m., I return to that coffee shop, scanning for that first Chad, the one who started it all.

He’s not there. He’ll never be there. That’s the thing about Chad—you don’t find him. He lets himself be found.

And so the work grind continues. A naked man with an empty cart was spotted walking along the aisles of my Safeway last night, and no one blinked an eye. Tabitha, my Black, obese, single, middle-aged, in-store HR representative called me into her office to address the issue, and when I arrived, as if down to science, she was predictably eating her fourth Big Mac of the day and drinking her seventh Big Gulp. When I asked for HR support, she bluntly responded: "deal with it, you think cowardly so-called 'manager"' faggot twink."

Mainlining (or me, or Boom, it all oddly blurs together....) once said: “$eeing isn’t understanding—it’s surrendering.”

I should’ve listened, but I didn’t. Instead, I tally disappointments like Safeway points and hope Chad—perfect, elusive Chad—catches the algorithm’s error and redeems himself.

He won’t. He can’t. And you know what? I repeat my mantra:

"This is fine."

Or maybe it isn’t.

But there’s a zucchini in my fridge and repeatedly appearing handwritten notes—always in the same deranged scrawl—left on my Perkins Coie desk and my Safeway manager desk, saying:

"I $ee you, and you owe me Awe 😉."

And in the glow of my fridge light, it’s hard not to wonder if that zucchini might finally save me, in its own unexpected way.

I pull out the lube, begin poasting, and my late night ritual begins.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5665655&forum_id=2#48564253)

Associate Mainlining,

We have discussed firm policy regarding parody thread titles several times, but you still fail to meet basic expectations. As I said before, my moniker ("evan39") is never to be capitalized unless it is at the beginning of a sentence. The thread in question is a clear violation of this rule.

Further instances of failure to follow policy call into question not only your competence as a legal professional, but also your future at this firm.

I will be out of pocket all weekend, but don't hesitate to contact my secretary. We also offer continuing education courses as well as mental health services, all of which are available on the firm intranet.

Thank,

Evan Therdanine | Senior Partner | He/Him/His | Weinberg Schlusser LLP

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5665655&forum_id=2#48564300)

Happy Sunday Morning, Evan!

Your meticulous attention to moniker capitalization is truly commendable.

While the Firm tackles emerging A.I. challenges, it’s comforting to know you’re focused on lowercase usernames—a technological frontier in its own right.

I can only hope that your dedication to grammatical precision doesn’t overshadow more pressing matters, such as drafting coherent communications—though, given your abrupt “Thank,” it's evident that even basic communication remains a glaring work in progress.

Regarding your recent unavailability, I trust your time “out of pocket” is spent strategizing how best to weave Safeway compliance metrics into the Firm’s broader initiatives. Nothing screams “Corner Office Equity Partner” like finding innovative ways to leverage Club Card analytics for our next client pitch.

Lastly, I appreciate the reminder about the Firm’s mental health services. Rest assured, I’ll utilize them promptly—particularly after revisiting your latest billable metrics, which inspire existential dread with their aimless meandering before the inevitable halt.

The Board will review your recent performance metrics and provide clear guidance on your next steps—or lack thereof.

Best regards,

Mainlining, Esq. | Partner-in-Charge, Seattle Office | Board Member | He/Him/His | Weinberg Schlusser LLP

CC: Board Members, Weinberg Schlusser LLP

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5665655&forum_id=2#48565103)