"Oh really?" said I.
"Yeah," said Noah. "One girl even asked, Are you a single dad?"
"She did not," I stated, indignant yet morbidly curious. "What'd you say?"
"I said, That depends on what you can do for me."
"You shut it."
"No, I didn't. I said, My wife's at home full of mucus with a broken tooth, eating Doritos, so...yes."
"I'm going to punch you in the nose. Really, what'd you say?"
"Listen lady, you're what, 18, 19? You're too young, too...firm."
It got physical after that last one. In the end, after some...advanced interrogation techniques, is I believe what the Bush administration called them...it came to light the whole thing was a fabrication. No girl asked him if he was a single dad, although many had gushed over Ethan and his adorable curly locks.
And as it happens, I wasn't just at home full of mucus with a broken tooth, eating Doritos. I was also wearing excessively large, lime-green Jockey briefs. Take THAT, sailorettes!