It was fucking hilarious to you.

Your boyfriend was the Coppertone Boy. Like, the first. Mister Coppertone. You probably teased him about it more than he teased Ben about his catchphrase.

It got on his nerves so much, though. You brought it up every five seconds. It was slightly funny, but sometimes he wished he didn’t have a billboard of him with his pale ass out in the middle of Staten Island.

“Okay, okay, laugh it up—“ he conceded when you first found out.