yet another first date turned sour... you were starting to get fed up with the dating apps. you step through the door to your shared apartment and groan, dropping your bag and lazily kicking off your shoes. you go to the kitchen and grab a cookie (or two) and begin chowing down.

"bad first date?" wilbur asks, looking at you from the sofa, arms lazily draped over the back of the couch, his eyes seemingly tired and dreary, as if you'd waken him from a nap.