So I’m sitting there in first class enjoying my complimentary beverage and the stewardess comes up and says, “Oh, I see you are sitting with Marshal So-And-So,” and I say, “Why yes, I am.”
And then she says, “Well, his daughter should be here soon. She’s on her way to the Caribbean.”
“How about that,” I say, just being polite. Extra polite–we haven’t left the ground yet, and I don’t want to jinx it.
And then very casually, she adds:
“Yes. She’s a swimsuit model.”
Oh. My.
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