You were minding your own business in a local dive catching up on all the Hot Goss and making time with a tall Manhattan that had a pour up to here when a goofy-looking kid tapped you on the shoulder.
"I'm on a date with this girl from Tinder. So-so face, but man...that ass," he said. "Anyway, I think she's going to leave when she comes out. She's not into it. Can you help me?"
You pause for a moment. The kid reminds you of a little brother, and you think about how cool you would look if you could still smoke inside. Goddamn liberals.
"Ask her what her dad's like," you say. He scampers off as his date returns. He wasn't kidding about dat ass.
An hour later you see them leaving together, laughing, probably going to bang big time. The kid gives you a thumbs up from the door. It's a good thing you were wearing your...AMERICA'S WINGMAN shirt in Gold or Steel on Blue and sold only from The Dick Show.