Under The Wagon

True life phone conversation with a friend, 8am Friday morning:

Me (still drunk) : "Dude, I totally got laid last night."

Friend (long suffering, at work) : "Yeah? Anyone I know?"

Me (cracking open a beer) : "Um...Well, I checked some magazine address labels he had lying around...I think his name is Steve."

Silence

Me (examining a thumbprint shaped bruise on my thigh) : "But he gave me a ride home this morning, and I didn't even ask him to."

Friend (still suffering) : "Sounds like quite the gentleman."

Me (polishing off the can of Busch, debating whether to make some toast or just grab another beer) : "I know, right? And he had abs you coulda grated cheese on!"

Friend (waving off a co-worker with important work related issues to discuss) : "That's nice. Hey, I gotta get back to work here. Are you going to sleep now, or what?"

Me (already planning next phone call to brag about getting laid) : "Eventually. Probably gonna watch a movie first. I hope those are his magazines, ya' know...What if they're his dad's or a friend's or something?"

Friend (looks at the pile of work on her desk, thinks about what it'd be like to not work during the week, and spend all of one's time lazing around the house drinking beer, staying out late, and having casual, anonymous sex): "Yeah. That'd...Yeah. I gotta go."

Me: "Okay. I'll call you later, if I'm still awake."

Friend: "Right."



Hey, at least I got a ride home.