It was a
full moon on a Saturday—a perfect night to put on my drinker’s cap. The
scene: a local pub showing MMA fights. In one corner (of the pub) was a band of
brothers who traded their weapons for lady-killing devices. They were
young and hungry. In another corner was a band of mothers who traded their
mundane married lives for a night on the town wearing bull’s-eyes. A
confrontation was inevitable with me stuck in the middle.
Ding!
I ask many
questions; women like that. I do more pinging than ponging because other people’s
lives are more interesting than mine. When a question comes my way, I deflect and
redirect. I wasn’t out to sell any books last night, so I played ring announcer
as I interviewed the contestants.
“These
are my friends Kari, Eve, and Beth.”
“So nice
to meet you all. Give me the tale of the tape.”
“Huh?”
“Single,
married, divorced; kids; occupation; and what-have-you. Just the facts ma’am.”
“We all
have teenage children.”
“Yes?”
“Kari
here is divorced and she kind of has a boyfriend.”
“Kind
of?”
“Her
boyfriend is like twenty years younger, so …”
“’Nuf
said.”
“Eve is
separated and looking to have fun, if you know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“Beth’s
relationship is complicated.”
“Aren’t
they all?”
“She’s
married, living with her husband, but they don’t sleep together. They’re
staying together for the kids and because it would be too expensive to split.”
“I may
have heard that story somewhere before. So, these ladies are in the arena for
what purpose?”
“To have
fun.”
“Which
includes?”
“I don’t
know, hooking up, I guess. I’m married so I can’t relate. I’m just here as a
friend.”
“Really?”
“Must
husband travels for work, that’s why he isn’t here.”
“Hm.”
“We’re
fine. I mean, he is away most of the time—like three weeks a month.”
“Strange.”
“Sure, I
wish he were around more, but …”
“Sounds to me like you could be joining this band of mothers soon.”
“Maybe.”
Kari was
flirting heavily with the brothers as her teammates giggled. Then, I spoiled
the fun by pointing out the flagrant foul.
“She’s
into these young boys because there’s no way she’d fall in love with one. It’s
safe sex, so to speak.”
Eve was
the most aggressive of the bunch, but she was also the most critical. I
expected that when I noticed her designer outfit, hair extensions, and various
enhancements.
“What
are you looking for, Eve?”
“There
are only like two attractive guys in this whole place.”
“None
taken.”
“How do
you know you’re not one of the two?”
“Just a
hunch, sugar.”
Beth was
the rookie. Her smirks and shy smiles told me she wanted some quick naughtiness
without complications. A toy to kiss, touch, and leave without her number would
suit her just fine.
“Beth, you
have a mischievous look.”
“I’m
feeling kind of frisky, I admit. You seem cool
enough, so I can tell you.”
When a woman calls me “cool enough” she means I’m
not a mating option, so she can tell me sexy, slutty stories without defending
herself. Works for me.
“Do
tell.”
“I had
my first ever one-night stand last weekend.”
“You
naughty girl.”
“I know!
It was so bad. I felt dirty, in a good way. It was my birthday party and I was
a little tipsy. God, it was awesome sex.”
“Sorry I
missed it.”
The
mothers and brothers flirted and teased. An hour of the game is all I could
stand. I excused myself, paid my tab, and headed for the showers. I hope both
teams scored.
