Forgetful

"I did it." The words tumble toward his dinner companion as he lowers himself into the booth.

"Did it? What?" The response is followed by a look of bewilderment.

"IT? Her, you know, seal the deal." He felt like a contestant on the Twenty Thousand Dollar Pyramid game show, only he was stuck with a less than stellar teammate.

"Oh, OH, okay, right, really?" The bewilderment faded to surprise while ending in amazement. She sat quietly examining the nuances of his each and every response - trying to find the hidden nuggets of information.

"Yeah." He shrugs his shoulders and orders lemonade while expecting jokes about his femininity, but they failed to materialize.

"So, what happened, details!" She leans forward in an unladylike position with elbows on the table and hands interlocked under the chin. The face posed to receive the gaudy details.

"Well, we did it, or we tried to." He laughs while nibbling a piece of bread from the basket in the center of the table. The fresh baked rye is still warm. He smiles while smashing a small butter packet on a slice.

"Tried? Either you did or didn't." She simultaneously asked questions and corrects him while maintaining the pose. "Anywhere, let's start with the basics - when and where?"

"The other day at her house - it was her idea." The words are garbled as he chews but countless such lunches had left her with the ability to easily decipher him.

"Jeses, her house? I assume you guys were alone?" The hands drop from her chin onto the table with a loud thud. Her jaw remains slack while shaking her head from side-to-side.

"Yeah, he was out of town for a few days, so it was just us." He washes down the bread with the homemade lemonade - a wonderful combination in his mouth - and grabs the last slice of rye as her eyes glare at him.

"You have balls my friend, I'll give you that."

"Did you want this?" He extends the bread in her direction.

"No, you know what I mean. Why didn't you just go to a motel? Shit, you can afford it." She can’t control her anger at his lackadaisical attitude.

"I'll consider that the next time." He swallows more lemonade while berating himself for every sharing such information, but it had been agreed before anything started.

"Okay, you do that. So, how was it - good as expected or wanted? Is she wild? Are those boobs real? How long did it take?" She was giddy with excitement at the news she was about to receive, although she had sworn to share it with nobody outside their circle. It was by far the highlight of her day - or week.

"Like I said, it was okay. She came and seemed happy about it." He leaned back as the fish sandwich was placed in front of him. He pulled the top pieces of bread away to inspect the contents. After discarding a tomato and an onion, the sandwich is reassembled and bitten.

"What about you?" She jabbed her salad with the fork like a hunter trying to spear its prey. The loud crunching of her eating was a bit annoying, but he decided to skip normal protocol and say nothing.

"Well, it just didn't happen. The flag was only raised so far." He made a small gesture with his hand that made them both giggle just before taking another bite of the sandwich. He motioned to the waitress for a drink refill.

"Wow, that is incredible. You had performance anxiety? Or, maybe she doesn't do it for you? We never envisioned this kind of problem." She chomped on a crouton. The resulting crunch sounded like a tooth injury.

"Yeah, well all of those pictures of him lurking on the walls and thereabouts were a bit disconcerting."

"Well, at least we can squash the homo rumors since his face and presence didn't get you hot." A piece of letter landed on the table as she laughed.

"You should be on stage somewhere and stop wasting such talent on me."

"So, you took care of her?" She twiddled her fingers and circled her lips with her tongue to provide the possible answers to the questions.

"Yes, both, it took forever, but she started giggling and laughing and she was there - more than once. At that point, she could have cared less about my shortcomings or helping me, so it was over."

"Wow, she laughed and giggled? And, more than once? That is good stuff, and at least she didn't cry. Nobody likes a crier."

"She said it was the best she ever had - nobody had ever made it so intense for her."

"Shit, we tell all men that. You know you guys have such fragile egos, so every little bit helps you believe whatever ya'll need to believe."

"Hey smell my hand." He quickly waves the index finger under her nose before she can bat it away.

"Wow, gross, that is strong, why didn't you wash?"

"I did, I soaked the hand in bleach and scrubbed it with soft scrub and even tried rubbing it with a lemon. That is some strong scent. Maybe she needs to bath more often." He pulls the finger to his nose and inhales before pushing it away. He winces as the memories of the past night return.

"No shit, I can't remember any girl or guy staying with after a thorough cleaning. You may want to buy some latex gloves."

"Hardy har har." He finished the sandwich and the third drink refill and dropped a few bills on the table to cover it.

"So, what is the next step? You going in again?"

"I think I have to, but not too soon - convince her I am in it for more than sex. That I am one of the good guys." He smiled at the cynic tone in his voice and knowing full well he was anything but good.

"Do you think you can do it the next time?"

"She'll go for it."

"No, can you get a stiffie and plow the field, do the deed?"

“Plow the field?”

“You know what I mean.”

"I hope so, but the physical attraction isn't so strong. She did prepare it for me but lost all momentum once inside. My heart was never in it. Maybe I can think of a hot chick while doing it."

"Yeah, think of your wife, that may work."

"Fuck you."