When Writers Visit They Discuss Money And Children

In that order

I met my friend Mike — who is now staying with me, like, in my actual house — back in 2014 or 2015, when we were working for an online magazine called Café.

I know this is a terrible name for a publication. We just worked there.

I had friends who had known Mike for years. I had always been angling to meet him and felt, frankly, that he was being kept from me on purpose. When I found out that he was one of just a few writers who were going to work at this Café scheme I was like Finally. My big chance.

I dressed nicely for him on the day we were all slated to go to the office and get semi-acquainted, before the official “launch.” Because of my intense desire to know Mike I had assumed I might have to do some work to make him like me (this always goes so well) but we just hit it off.

Naturally I attached myself to him and decided we would be best friends forever. In this blush of new love (on my end, I am sure Mike liked me fine but wasn’t in the same state as I was, because he is more measured in his emotions) we walked west on 28th Street and reflected on the three hour or so meet-and-greet-lunch at this (virtual) job where we were expected to produce two pieces a week. Before descending to the N/R train to go back to his apartment in Brooklyn, Mike said, “I think Café is just using us as SEO guinea pigs.” I thought that this was extreme but was too enamored to disagree.

I still remember arriving at my bestie's apartment after that meeting and declaring proudly “I am best friends with Mike Albo now!’ and my friend saying “I look forward to him finding out how crazy you are. You’ll be running back to me in no time.”

Mike was totally right about why we had gotten hired at this weird place with the name that someone had clearly thought up in four seconds. Less than a year later Café abruptly turned into a website called “Scary Mommy.” All our work was destroyed, and most of the people who worked there turned into holograms.

Mike is all that remains to prove that job ever happened.