by Craig Birk
Chapter Eight
Sex
4:42 p.m.
“Yeah, you're not hurting it. You're just kinda gently batting the bunny around, you know what I mean? And the bunny is scared, Mike, the bunny is scared of you, shivering. . . . And you got these fucking claws and these fangs, man! And you're looking at your claws and you're looking at your fangs. And you're thinking to yourself, you don't know what to do, man. "I don't know how to kill the bunny." With this you don't know how to kill the bunny. Do you know what I mean?”
– Trent, Swingers
With Roger sleeping soundly in the back seat, Temecula was now in the rearview mirror and Superman by Eminem had replaced Avril on the stereo.
“Put anthrax on a Tampax
And slap you till you can’t stand
Girl you just blew your chance
Don’t mean to ruin your plans
But I do know one thing though
Bitches they come they go”
Alex: “I had a dream last night that I was A. C. Slater from Saved by the Bell.”
Gary: “Were you doing it with Jessie Spano?”
Alex: “Who?”
Gary: “You know. Jessie, Elizabeth Berkeley’s character.”
Alex: “Oh, right. No. She wasn’t in it.”
Gary: “What about Screech?”
Alex: “Was I doing it with Screech?”
Gary: “No. Just was he in the dream?”
Alex: “Oh. No. Zack was in it briefly, but he didn’t have any meaningful role.”
Gary: “So what were you doing as A. C. Slater?”
Alex: “I had made this chair and attached a bunch of helium balloons to the bottom it. I was bouncing up and down on the chair and was going higher every time. I was next to a large swimming pool so my objective was to go about ten meters high and then jump off the chair into the pool. But somehow I didn’t jump in time and the chair kept going higher and higher and I couldn’t get off and couldn’t get the chair to go back down. Mr. Belding was screaming at me to just jump already, but I was paralyzed. Then I woke up.”
Gary: “Yeah, I used to have one like that too sometimes, only without the Saved by the Bell part.”
The BMW followed its lane in a sweeping curve to the right, revealing the valley holding the city of Corona. A thick blanket of smog had floated in from greater Los Angeles and created a ceiling above the town. Alex had no more desire to analyze his dreams and switched topics.
Alex: “So you’ve been married like three years, right?”
Gary: “Five.”
Alex: “No shit. Time flies. Five years? Wow, it seems like your wedding was just yesterday. So, like, how often do you boff after five years of marriage?”
Gary: “You are asking how often do Blair and I have sex?”
Alex: “Yep.”
Gary: “Well, before Sarah was born it was about twice a week, but now I would say more like once a week. Usually it is once a week. Sometimes once a week anyways. I think. Maybe, anyway. I don’t know. Actually, I don’t even remember what is normal before being married. What about your latest chick?”
Alex: “The one from Dallas?”
Gary: “Yeah, what is her name?”
Alex: “Courtney. Well, it’s hard to say because when we are together it’s like minimum three times a day, but I tend to only see her like once every few weeks. Angela was the last real girlfriend I had who lived in San Diego. With her it was a solid once a day program, but we didn’t see each other every day either. But, I think, you know, after five years of marriage, once a week sounds like you’re doing pretty well.”
Mike: “Once a week sounds great to me.”
Gary: “Dry spell?”
Mike: “Mojave desert.”
Alex: “Are you on official hiatus clock?”
Mike: “Yeah, a few months deep.”
Gary: “What is the hiatus clock?”
Alex: “Dude, you have been married too long. Any time you hit three months from last intercourse, you are officially on a hiatus. It can be quite scary.”
Mike: “Tell me about it. The thing is, once I get on hiatus I notice I start doing shit I wouldn’t otherwise do. It’s like, if I had sex the night before, and then I meet Anna Kournikova at the beach, I would want to determine if she has a good personality before I am willing to even hang out with her. But after a few months on the hiatus clock I find myself at Rodge’s bar trying to ramp up some fat bitch who works at a Mervyn’s.”
Gary: “Maybe she could get you a discount on a Maytag for the new pad.”
Alex: “Or some candlesticks for the dining room. You should just get over yourself and join Match. A bunch of my buddies at work do it and they say it makes getting laid like shooting fish in a barrel.”
Mike: “Maybe you are right. I just feel so stupid doing it for some reason. It seems so desperate, but maybe I am desperate so it doesn’t matter. Anyway, it is starting to make sense. Going out just doesn’t seem worth the hassle anymore, especially at this age. You want to hook up, so you go out, but lately I just feel old.”
Alex: “Dude, we are not that old.”
Mike: “Lately I feel pretty geriatric when we go out. I mean, I don’t want to be that guy.”
Alex: “We are not that old.”
Mike: “We aren’t young.”
Alex: “Fair, but we are not that old either.”
Mike: “It’s like, you know, when you go to Vegas and see George Maloof out partying, and he just looks so, just fucking old. And it’s sad.”
Alex: “Yeah, you’re right. You are sitting at home on your couch with a forty-ouncer watching a Die-Hard rerun on USA and he is sitting in the club partying with Paris Hilton and Tara Reid. I don’t feel that bad for him. Give my apologies to Bruce Willis, but there is not even a comparison.”
Mike: “All I am saying is, it is getting tired and I almost never meet anyone anyway, so there isn’t much point.”
“Yippee Kay-Yeah, Mother-Fucker!” Alex nearly shouted, then continued in a more serious tone, “You are so negative. Come on, it’s really not that bad.”
Mike: “Easy for you to say.”
Alex: “Dude, I’ve had my share of dry spells. Plus, I am sick of all the bullshit too. I would love to settle down with one chick.”
Gary: “Be careful, Alex. Your credibility is already on thin ice today.”
Alex: “No, I’m serious.”
Gary: “Actually, to be truthful, it had been once a week, but for the last couple months I have been pretty much cut off completely.”
Alex: “Are you talking about Blair again?”
Gary: “Yeah.”
Alex: “Oh. Why, what happened?”
Gary: “You know, sometimes outside factors interfere. It’s just temporary. I think it will blow over soon.”
Mike: “Like what outside factors?”
Gary: “Well, if you must know, Blair found my porn stash and she wasn’t at all happy about it. She has been applying sexual sanctions ever since.”
Mike: “Sanctions never work. Just look at North Korea.”
Gary: “Well, in this case I would have to say they are pretty effective.”
Mike: “No, it is stupid. It’s just going to drive you to cheat.”
Alex: “Anyway, that sounds like bullshit. I mean there isn’t anything wrong with having some porn. It’s a hell of a lot better than most of the dirt-bags out there looking for the real thing.”
Gary: “That was my point, but she didn’t exactly see it that way.”
Alex: “I mean, I could understand if it was something super-pervy like Tiny White Holes and Huge Black Cocks or Barely Legal or something like that, but otherwise where’s the harm?”
Gary paused. A few seconds later he said softly, “Well, yeah, that was sort of the thing.”
Alex, excited, raised his eyebrows and turned his head to the right toward Gary. “Huge Black Cocks?” he asked, sounding like a five-year-old shyly asking if he was going to get a puppy for Christmas.
Gary: “No, closer to the Barely Legal, but let’s just leave it at that.”
Mike: “Dude, I didn’t know you were a pederast.”
Gary: “Let’s just forget it. It wasn’t kiddy porn or anything.”
Mike: “Eight year olds, dude!”
Gary: “Very funny, Mike.”
Just then Nick Lachey’s What’s Left of Me started to play in the car, providing Gary with a welcome exit from the conversation.
Mike: “What the fuck is this?”
Alex immediately reached down and fumbled with the iPod, hitting fast forward as quickly as possible, thankful to hear Too $hort’s Good Life start.
Gary: “Take it easy on him, Mike. Alex can’t help it if he secretly wants to be Nick Lachey.”
Alex had little choice but to give himself a jab to end the conversation: “Pre or post Jessica?”
The comment elicited mild chuckles, and Gary looped back to the previous conversation from before his rather unfortunate porn admission. “So, do you think things might get serious with Courtney?” he asked Alex.
Alex: “No. I doubt it. She is cool, but I don’t really feel like it has legs. Also, there is this weird thing with her where it seems her head is always facing a bit to the left. It bugs me. Perhaps the chick who came down last month from San Francisco. She was pretty incredible, but we have not been able to schedule another time to meet.”
Mike: “Megan?”
Alex: “Um . . . yeah, Megan. G-Balls, check this out. I met this chick last year at Bay to Breakers when I was wearing my Super Dave Osborne costume. I had not seen her since then, but we emailed occasionally. Last month she flew down to see me but paid for her own flight. I pick her up at the airport and we go straight back to my place and boff all night. We spent the whole next day at the beach but were running late so all we had time to eat for lunch was Taco Bell. She has two Mexi-melts and a Nacho-Supreme with no beans and a Diet Coke. Probably about $4.75. For dinner we went to The Cove but, get this, she paid. After, we go home and watch Top Gun on DVD but end up getting naked on the couch before Kelly McGillis does in the movie. Her return flight was early in the morning and then she’s gone. It was unreal. My CPL was about a buck fifty which is simply unheard of.”
Gary: “CPL?”
Alex: “Cost Per Load, dude. I mean, usually, I am well into the triple digits. Lately it is even worse sometimes. This was brilliant. I mean, a dollar fifty? She may has well have paid me.”
Gary: “So you define the potential for a long-term relationship based on how little it takes to get your rocks off? You could go to Tijuana and probably find plenty of girls to help you out for a few bucks.”
Alex: “No, that isn’t what I meant. She was really cool. She has a lot of other great qualities also. I mean, not even counting her body. I just wanted to point it out because I thought it was unique.”
Gary: “Well, it sounds like you are still having fun with the single life.”
Alex: “It is okay. Sometimes it is a lot of fun. Sometimes I wake up hung over next to a girl I wish was something she isn’t and it feels very empty. To be fair to Mike’s point, the whole going out and getting wasted thing may be close to running its course, though I maintain we are not that old.”
Gary: “Okay, I think we can agree we are no longer young, but are not old either.”
Alex: “Fair enough. I don’t know, man. I mean, a lot of times I feel like my life should have some other direction or focus. Maybe something real? But I just have absolutely no idea . . . what it could be.”
Gary: “You will, when it is right. You just need to be open for it.”
Alex: “Thanks. I hope so.”
Gary: “Suddenly, hanging with you two, marriage doesn’t seem so bad. No hiatus and no CPL to worry about.”
Alex took his eyes off the road and looked straight at Gary with a serious expression on his face: “No, no. You’ve got to be careful with that shit. I’m serious, dude. Mother-fucking alimony. It’s the super-highway straight to a six-figure CPL. No shit, I’ve seen it happen.”
This gave Gary a laugh: “I’m not too worried about it. Listen, let me ask you guys a question. Do you ever, you know, bottom out?”
Mike: “What do you mean?”
Gary: “Well, in certain positions, I run out of room. I can’t get it all the way in. I am just wondering if this is normal. I can’t really remember having this issue when I was single.”
Alex: “Now this is interesting. Are you talking regular positions, or kinky weird shit?”
Gary: “No, just regular. Blair’s idea of kinky is leaving the lights on.”
Alex: “In that case, dude, no, I don’t think it’s normal.”
Gary: “Hmmm.”
Mike: “What are you saying, like you’ve got a huge fuck-stick or something?”
Gary: “No, no, it’s not that . . . I think maybe Blair has a shallow dish.”
