He tries them all

After a couple of hours, Rick was exhausted, both physically and mentally. He'd given his new talent a workout even more rigorous than what he'd done to his muscles. He'd gotten to the point where he could easily see how he was impacting the attractive women there, but this wasn't some kind of Groundhog's Day scenario where he could get a free do-over when he said something wrong. No, knowing how women reacted to him was fine but it wasn't getting him laid. It also wasn't making him any money. After the disappointment with the outplacement company, he was increasingly concerned that finding a decent paycheck was going to be rough.

He finished with the weights and decided to do a few laps of the indoor track, falling in beside a pretty redhead he'd noticed earlier but hadn't gotten around to talking to yet.

"Hi, I'm Rick," he tried.

No answer.

Well, maybe she was completely focused. He wasn't going to push himself on her if she wasn't willing but thought he'd give her another chance if she was just distracted. "You have a target for how far you're running today?"

She stopped in the middle of the track causing a traffic jam as joggers swirled around trying to get past. "Look, asshole. I come here to get away from fuckheads always making moves on me. So, if you're looking for action, just go on the internet like everyone else, okay?

"Yeah, sure. Sorry, I was trying to be friendly."

"Fuck friendly. Now shut up and leave me alone or I'll report you."

He nodded, silently. His examination of her pulse, the narrowing of her pupils, and the sweat on her face convinced him this redhead wasn't playing hard to get... she really wanted him out of her life. So, once again an incredible talent for seeing below the surface wasn't any help at all.

Down in the locker room, Rick reconsidered his position. He owned a car and the remaining treatments of bio-DNA plus the clothes on his back and a few hundred dollars in his bank account. He hadn't had sex in close to a year and didn't have a girlfriend or any prospects. Considering how his meeting with the outplacement company had gone, he didn't have any prospects for worthwhile employment, either. It seemed he had two options.

First, he could forget about bio-DNA and start applying for shit jobs that, at least, might give him a chance to pay for a room somewhere or:

Second, he could go all-in on bio-DNA, hoping that whatever the shortcomings of his initial dose, something would develop over time that would allow him to do better than flipping burgers somewhere.