All The Single Ladies

So.

Good news.

Today the owner of Tic Tac Spa offered me a deal I can't refuse:

A free trip to Vietnam next summer.

Complete with all the rice noodles I can eat.

All was going well with negotiations until I asked him if I could bring Husband and Baby.

You see, he has this brother.

Who wants to marry an American woman.

A fleshy American woman.

Or, semi-fleshy will do, too.

Or, like, an American woman who has a pulse.

Apparently I don't qualify since I'm already married, which is totally lame.

So now, there are these stupid stipulations on the free trip.

I have to come up with some single ladies to bring along.

I told him, NO PROBLEMO, PACO, I know lots of single ladies.

Except I said it in Vietnamese, because I'm practically fluent now.

I have to be so I can serve as a translator between my single lady friends and his non-English speaking brother.

Who, by the way, also happens to be a stellar fisherman.

SCO-RE.

I'm even now taking applications.

I'm looking to make a love match based on seventy-two compatibility points.

No, wait.

I've confused myself with eHarmony.

I'm just looking for three compatibility points:  Are you American?  Are you alive?  Do you dig a man who can gift you a delicious bass?

BAM.

You're in.