uring his toast at my wedding, my brother made a stink about not being my best man. To prove his superiority, he then gave the guy who’d landed the gig a pop quiz. What was my favorite movie? (.) Who was my high school girlfriend? (Trick question—she didn’t exist.) How did I lose the peripheral vision in my left eye? (BB gun.) Finally, my brother delivered the punchline: How many friends did I have? That answer was easy. One. The
