hasn’t dropped off.”
Alex blushed but offered no argument. “Not my fault my ass has international appeal. It’s not like I’m looking to get laid.”
That comment almost brought the rest of us to our feet. The shouts from everyone sitting at the table came out in a simultaneous rush. “You don’t do anything other than to try to get laid,” I said.
Alex just offered a sheepish shrug. “Man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. So much dick, so little time.” He wasn’t able to duck before the cube of ice John lobbed at him bounced off his forehead.
“Fuck, that hurt.” He gave an exaggerated wail and covered his forehead with both hands.
“Head’s so fuckin’ big, how could I’ve missed?” John jeered. “Besides, I thought the ice might help to cool you down, seeing how you think you’re such hot shit.”
Everyone knew the jabs were in jest, and the laughter continued. Fully recovered, Alex tossed a piece of ice at John, intending for it to just fall into his lap. “I do believe that’s the voice of jealousy, grasshopper. You just need lessons from someone who knows how to use the force.”
“Just because you’re wrinkled, green, and have big ears and a little dick doesn’t make you Yoda. Besides, the only light saber you own is the pink dildo in your bedside table.”
The cumulative laugh again crescendoed and miraculously left Alex momentarily at a loss for words. “It’s blue, not pink, and you can borrow it anytime you’d like.”
The volume of laughing and talking continued to ebb and flow, and my margarita was put in front of me. I raised my glass in a toast to my friends, all of whom were probably on at least their second drink by then, and toasted, “Here’s to the nectar of the gods.”
I didn’t even have time to swallow before Tyler acknowledged my toast with a question. “Nectar of the gods? Damn, Zack, you drink jizz by the glass?”
A mouthful of perfectly good margarita made with a fine Patron tequila went exploding out of my mouth in an attempt to avoid choking. The whole spectacle brought the table into an even greater fit of hysterics.
Eager to change the subject, I directed my question back to Alex. “So, dude, which travel story were you telling when I walked in? This isn’t another rendition of Australia and the blackout, is it?”
Alex went immediately crimson. “Skip it, Zack; that’s not a story for mixed company.”
His silence, so uncharacteristic of Alex, brought everyone’s eyes up in unison, each expression screaming with curiosity, demanding an explanation.
The never bashful Declan took the lead. “So, Alex, sounds like there’s something you might want to share with us about your experiences in Australia.”
Even the tips of Alex’s ears turned pink. He really did have a reputation. Alex was not the best-looking guy in the world, but he exuded self-confidence, and more importantly, was both relentless and had no shame. He could walk up to the best-looking guy in the bar and come on to him. If the response he got was to be told to eat shit and die, rather than crawling away in shame, Alex would be encouraged. “Eating, that’s a good thing. Does that mean you’d like to blow this place and go grab a bite with me?” Frequently, I thought the guy Alex was coming on to was so taken aback by Alex’s persistence that he’d end up taking Alex home.
The rest of us thought it incredible and might have even been a slight bit jealous, but we were nonetheless kind of stupefied by Alex’s success with the “A-list” men. Average-looking at best, he really did have a knack for hooking up with the hotties.
Alex’s ears continued to burn, and despite his insistence that he was going to kill me for alluding to what was yet another embarrassing episode in his epic life, he beamed at the prospect of flying solo in the spotlight. It had already been established that he had no shame. Didn’t matter if the story might be embarrassing as hell, Alex