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sounds sweet. Was the agent Russian?”
    Mike: “Um . . . No. It was your typical
twenty-eight-year-old blond chick who lost a dotcom job up north
after the bubble and moved down here. Standard stuff.”
    Gary: “So she was American?”
    Mike: “Yeah, from Chicago I think.”
    Gary: “That’s strange. I wouldn’t have
thought they would be open to letting Americans get into the
business.”
    Mike: “What do you mean? I think she even
went to State down here. Didn’t really make it in San Francisco but
has her shit together and is good at sales. You know the type.
Typical real estate agent.”
    Gary: “Okay. I am confused. I thought we are
talking about the people who found the girl you are marrying. What
are you talking about?”
    Alex chose this moment to re-enter the
conversation: “Hey guys, do you want to hit a strip club tonight,
or wait until tomorrow during the afternoon to kill some time? I
heard a rumor that Crazy Horse Too may be closing because it got
too skanky, but maybe the Rhino or Club Paradise?”
    Mike: “Sure, whatever, Alex. Marrying, Gary?
What are you talking about? I haven’t even been on a date in nearly
four months.”
    Gary, whom Blair often accused of being too
trusting, finally smelled the rat. “Mike, are you, or are you not,
getting married? Is this or is it not a bachelor party trip?” he
asked in a deliberate and deep tone.
    Mike laughed heartily. “Married? Shit, I’m
all for it if you can find me a nice bitch this weekend with big
tits and maybe a trust fund. Maybe we will run into Britney Spears
at Ghostbar and she will want to give it another try. But I wasn’t
planning on it. I just closed on a new house in Del Mar. I thought
that is what you were asking about.”
    An awkward silence dominated the car for the
next several seconds. Somehow the fact that they were only going
twenty-seven miles an hour made the situation even worse. Madonna
was complicit in letting the moment sink in. She ended her song and
paused lengthily before Hollywood began to play.
    Gary was the first to speak. He looked
directly at Alex. “Alex, you mother fucking, mother fucker. This is
not cool. You called Blair and lied directly to my wife. Basically
that means I have now lied to her about this whole trip as well.
This is fucked. We are fucked. I am fucked.”
    Alex tried to sound calm: “Okay, I knew we
would have to deal with this at some point, so I just have to say,
I really think you are focusing too much on the negative here.”
    Gary: “The negative? The negative? What is
the positive? You are out of your mind. This is a very bad
situation. Just turn the car around.”
    Alex: “It is cool. Nothing is fucked here. We
are just normal Americans trying to have a good time. Everything
will work out fine. Just watch.”
    Gary: “What the fuck are you talking about?
What does this have to do with being American? This has to do with
me being married. Turn the car around at the next exit.”
    Alex: “Okay, but let’s think about this for a
moment first. Just hear me out. Listen, this was the only way I
could get you to come with us. And you know that is true. I only
told Blair that Mike was getting married for you – so you could
enjoy this weekend with us. We are going to have a great time and
when we get back, we can just wait a week or so and then just tell
her that the engagement broke off cuz, like, um . . . I don’t know
. . . maybe Mike fucked the stripper we got him or something. Maybe
he even caught a disease or something. It will be cool.”
    Mike, who had not planned on further
participation in this conversation, chimed in at this point: “Hey,
Alex – usually I don’t care what kind of shit you pull, but I don’t
want to come off like the asshole to my friend’s wife. Did you
think of that in your little scenario?”
    Alex: “Okay, sorry buddy. You’re right. And I
don’t have all the details worked out right now, but it will be
okay. No strippers. I am the asshole here;