Ethan sat alone in the corner of a crowded bar in downtown Toronto, sipping a beer he really needed. Work was getting more and more stressful every day, and Ethan found that a beer or two in the evening really calmed him down. Unfortunately for Ethan, his family had a history of alcoholism, which he was very afraid he would continue.
His solution to this problem was the party bar he currently sat in. Just off the lobby of a popular hotel, it was loud, busy, and overpriced. Even so, he would leave every night feeling more relaxed than when he came in. Rather than downing a six-pack in front of his TV at home, Ethan would go to the bar, pay $6 for a beer and avoiding drinking in excess. He knew that it wasn't a perfect solution- no, really he should just find a better way to handle his stress- but he was content. He could relax and enjoy his vice in moderation.
And so Ethan found himself at the bottom of his second, and what he thought to be his last beer of the evening. He swirled the last of it in his glass, drank it and set the glass down on the bar. He sat for a few minutes at the bar looking at some of the girls in the bar, trying to decide whether he was too old to be here. He was 28, but most of the bar's patrons were barely 20.
"Half your age, plus 7... so 21. I'm allowed to date women over 21."
He couldn't remember where he first heard it, but it was Ethan's general rule that you could date someone younger than you only if they are at least half your age, plus 7. He began trying to source the rule when the bartender interrupted with a fresh beer.
"Hey, buddy, the girl at the other end of the bar says this one's on her. And she asked me to give you this."
The bartender left the glass and a napkin with Ethan, who was not hiding his surprise very well. The napkin had a note scribbled neatly in pink on it.
"Hey, I just met you,
And this is crazy,
But here's my number,
So call me maybe?"
Ethan could do nothing more than stare at it. For one thing, he couldn't believe that someone was actually using that stupid song to hit on him, not to mention his surprise someone here was hitting on him at all. Finally, he realized the most bizarre thing: there wasn't even a phone number on the note!
He looked up and toward the other end of the bar to see who this girl- at least, he hoped it was a girl- was. After a few moments, he locked eyes with a pretty brunette. He held up the note as if to ask "Was this you?"
She simply winked to confirm. Ethan thought he recognized her from somewhere, but he couldn't place her. He took a swig from his beer, then started to make his way towards her. As the moments passed, the feeling that he recognized her only got stronger. When he finally reached her, she smiled at him. Still very much confused, Ethan simply said: "Hi."
"Hi yourself," the brunette replied. "You looked like you could use a refill."
"Actually, I had planned for that last one to be- well, my last one." He was suddenly nervous, struggling with words.
"Oh really? I'm sorry, I didn't know. Did you have somewhere you need to be?"
"No, no. I just hadn't really planned on drinking tonight. Drinking much tonight, that is." Stupid! Why the hell was he so nervous? And now he was starting to hear that damn song in his head.
"I threw a wish in a well,
Don't ask me I'll never tell..."
"See, to me, you're just making it seem like you needed it even more than I thought. You seem kind of on-edge."
"I looked to you as it fell,
And now you're in my way..."
"Not really, just had a long day at work."
"I'd trade my soul for a wish,
