A shot of your cheapest tequila, please. Uh— I’m not supposed to serve drinks. Come on. My grandma’s making me give a toast and I’m not nearly liquored up enough to wish the happy couple well. Are they really that bad? They texted me on Wednesday. Not to tell me that they were officially man and wife but to make sure I wasn’t letting the newspapers pile up on the driveway. Because that’s just an invitation for burglers. Ah, nice. I mean at least they were thinking about you, right? Just one? Please, Beto. How do you know my name? I asked someone. Okay, how about this. You tell me yours, and I’ll give you a shot.