“You didn’t sign the email ‘Dating Grandpa Gosling’?” the host asks, playing up the disbelief and shaking his head at the audience, eliciting the same response. “No,” the woman says firmly. The audience grumbles, and Grandpa Gosling shifts uncomfortably. Sam throws a pillow at the screen. “Maybe she didn’t give him the name, but she did compare him to a grandpa. And tepid bathwater. Beige! She called him beige!” Her phone rings, and without looking at the screen, Sam answers. “Yeah, I’m watching. I know! What a pack of low-fat baloney.”
