Thought Butcher can't quite tell how old she is, he's got some clues and now, a few more. When he takes his next smoky, exhale, he lets some of the bullshit out, too. There's something to be said for practicing skills (like observation) to keep a person sharp. It's a whole other thing if it's cataloguing emotional blackmail on a teenager - which is really just a taller, less compliant child - who Butcher doesn't think is on the same level as he is when it comes to mischief. Not now, at least.

So, when the question comes, he answers, bullshitless, "bar fight. The one whose nut you crushed is all elbows, and good old Ethan-- Let's just say we just saw he ain't chums with the Me Too movement." Ethan's head had been the closest thing to bash. It's not like he was trying to avenge some poor lady, he just wanted to fight, and that seemed a better excuse than the audacity of an elbow in a crowded bar.

"What about you? Go to school with these cunts?"