A simple rule of thumb applies to the situation when your girl wants you to submit yourself to a paternity test for her baby. That rule is: Maury Povich is not your friend. For that matter neither is Oprah, Sally Jesse, Montel Williams and Jerry Springer, or any other acolytes of daytime TV hell. If she really wants you to go through a paternity test, there is really only one thing to do. Man up to the task and head for Tijuana.
Have you been to Tijuana? It’s much better for the single man than being proved the legal father of a child. And by better I mean worse. Hell, it’s just downright filthy these days. Drugs by the handful, more Patron tequila than you can retch, and senorita grab bags at fifty pesos. No need to pack a bag either, because it will be stolen from your hotel room before you return from the donkey show. You can retrace the drunken footsteps of Al Capone and Charlie Chaplin, maybe even sleep with a girl from the same lineage of prostitution that Fred Astaire once did. The possibilities are endless.
Think of the alternative: watching a judge write up papers making you the legal guardian of a child. Then the judge will have your paycheck garnished like a rancid seafood entrÃ?Â©e at Red Lobster. And God forbid you start to feel responsible for that child you fathered (this is another reason to always keep a Gameboy on your person for distraction from dealing with real life situations).
No, no, no. Instead you support the sex-trade by buying another chica at the hourly rate it the Pussycat club and get knee deep in a bottle of whiskey that will make you blind and sterile.
As much as I would like to tell you the dream of Tijuana can last forever, at some point you will have to come home, and waiting for you without missing a beat will be that situation. She will talk you into going on Maury Povich with her. Most likely you will be so strung out from Tijuana that she’ll have you on the show and you won’t realize it until you’re on stage making a fool of yourself. In that event, here are some guidelines to follow:
1.) When in doubt, lie: Practice lying at the top of your lungs before going on the show so that you can be fiery and flamboyant. Rip your shirt off if you must. Be prepared to continue lying even after medical science disproves your claims. Remember, whoever shouts loudest and cuts the other person off the most on Maury Povich and Springer ends up looking like the winner. Yell things lie, “Dat ain’t my DNA, ho!”
2.) Learn to beat a lie detector test: Put a tack through the bottom of your shoe so that you can step on it like a car accelerator pedal. Every time you are asked a question, press your toe or sole of your foot onto the tack so that you body focuses more on the pain than your lying mouth, which will cause the polygraph needle to move the same amount each time. If you have to be barefoot, find a way to put the tack in your lying mouth. Make sure the tack pricks you each time you talk, but not deep enough that it draws your evil blood.
3.) “Lector” your way through the test: The Maury Povich show will most likely do a cheek swab on you to get a DNA sample. Take a page from Hannibal Lector and sew someone else’s cheek into your own cheek. If you think this sounds painful, consider the idea of child support at 17% of your gross income for the rest of your natural life.
4.) Show her love: Lavish her with praise. Show the world that you care so that they will leave you alone. Get to know her momma and other kids. This will confuse her so much that she will want to leave you anyway.
5.) Get revenge by becoming homeless: Show her how serious you are about not being the father. Find a bridge and a piece of canvas. Set up a shantytown with other former Maury Povich guests. Pick out a nice exit ramp to hold up a cardboard sign to beg for dollars, or start selling stolen oranges. Lose all of your teeth and start to smell like an oil refinery. Poop in a bush and wipe with a pine cone until the kid finally graduates, then move on with your life knowing that you still have your pride.
In the end you will find yourself Married-n-Bored. As a Single-n-Lonely guy, you enjoy joking around, laughing, having fun in general – and hey, that’s terrific. Sorry to say, that’s all about to change. Nevermind the fact that the kid will not remember wearing Baby Gap clothing, you will end up buying it for the baby. After that colossal waste of money you move into college savings plans. You will be eating steak that tastes like plywood for a long time. Oh well, it’s too late for you now. Just pick a sports team and get serious about fantasy football; you’ve got your whole career on ESPN.com ahead of you. Good thing you became sterile from Tijuana whiskey.