The Bad Boy Computer Programmer At Wattpad

THE FUNTARIO

**Ian**

The Funtario was a small bar located a short walk from Wattpad Headquarters. With booths upholstered in crimson vinyl and walls constructed of red brick, the Funtario provided a lively atmosphere to host the happiest of happy hours following a hard day's work. Sloth and Mouth were regulars, often playing the retro arcade and pinball machines along the back wall while enjoying a couple plates of Funtario's award-winning poutine. Ian, on the other hand, was only a patron on Thursdays for trivia night. His strict schedule would need to be adjusted to account for tonight's unplanned visit.

Seated at a booth, Sloth took it upon himself to order for the group. "Two plates of poutine and three shots of tequila!"

Ian held up a finger to stop the waitress before she turned to leave. In a quite voice, he said, "Make mine a Molson Light." She nodded, scribbling on her notepad as she walked back towards the kitchen.

Sporting a Coding is My Cardio shirt, Sloth unrolled the bug report and pointed to the paper. "I think Yoda might be the woman of Data's dreams."

"Not likely." Ian tapped his finger on the table to indicate he was not feeling user friendly. "She doesn't sound like a software developer or business manager or doctor or anything."

Sloth's eyes grew big and his mouth formed a giant 'O' shape. "Prick much?"

Always searching for an opportunity to drop Star Wars quotes, Mouth added, "You will never find a more wretched hive of scum than what is on this bug report. We must be cautious."

"C'mon," Ian protested. "You know that's not what I meant."

Sloth faced Mouth and mumbled, "This should be good." Then he turned towards Ian with his chin on his hand. "Tell us what you meant, bro."

"You know what I meant," Ian insisted.

"If you meant waitresses and receptionists don't meet your standards for a quality career, then we're understanding each other perfectly."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

Ian squirmed in his seat across the table from his two coworkers. "I'm not saying a job has anything to do with who'll potentially make a good partner--."

"Yes, but--?" Sloth cocked his head to the side in his palm, looking impatient as he drummed his fingers on the table waiting for Ian's answer.

"I just think there are certain careers that increase my chances of meeting someone I'm more compatible with. That's all I was saying."

"Wait for it--." Straightening his red Trekkie t-shirt printed with the words Team Red Shirt, I might not make it--Mouth readied himself to quote a line from the movie, Back to the Future. "If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits eighty-eight dollars an hour--you're gonna see some serious shit!"

Sloth and Mouth laughed. Ian didn't.

"Alright, alright, alright." Sloth disengaged from the interrogation and ran a finger over the words on the report. "There was just some stuff in here that made me think you two would get along."

"You're a matchmaker now?"

"No," Sloth replied, still reading the support ticket. "I just happen to have Spidey senses."

Ian grinned and shook his head. "Spidey senses?"

"I have experience with version control systems," Sloth explained. "I'm an expert at determining whether a smooth merger could happen or not."