How many geniuses had he sired in a wad of toilet paper, he wondered. How many champions? How many middle of the road schmucks stuck in loveless marriage, too afraid to do anything that might upset the status quo? How many miserable bastards dragging their feet from one day to the next?
He figured the odds were against him. People like him should let their lines die out. Someone else can take their spot at the bottom.
His date kept talking about how incredibly validating her work was, but he hadn’t listened when she said what it was she did.