"So what happened with Lloyd?" asks Heather, leaning with one elbow on the table at Pete's Tavern. It's just before noon on a Sunday and the restaurant is filled with the buzz of people eating brunch, a meal favored by fashionable young city dwellers waiting to begin living lives more like their parents.
"I couldn't stand it any more," says Anne. "We weren't right for each other. It was torture for both of us."
They pause as the second round of drinks arrives. The drinks are girl's drinks: daiquiris, vodka tonic, and red wine.
"We all thought that the two of you were great together," says Betty. "You never fought. Nigel and I fight all the time and my phone bill is a hundred dollars in long distance."
"Fighting wasn't our problem. It was something else. He just had something missing. It wasn't right. We had issues."
"What issues?" Erin says.
"We had money issues. He's kind of poor."
"No," says Heather. "C'mon. I know you better than that."
"I'm spoiled. At least I admit it," says Anne.
Betty has come to the bottom of her strawberry daiquiri quickly and orders the table a third round. She speaks up once the waitress has left to get the drink. "Was it big?"
The table erupts in giddy laughter. There are red faces all around.
Anne looks around, then nods her head with guilty pleasure and with both hands makes a circle to illustrate (with hyperbole one would hope) her ex-boyfriend's impressive penile girth. Another explosion of laughter from the table turns a few heads in the buzzing restaurant. A few tables away, a couple of men do a bad job of pretending not to listen.
"Ouch," laughs Betty. "But that's better than having a guy with a small one."
"Here's to more big cock in your future," Heather raises her glass to toast Anne's new freedom. Heather is happy to hear that nice guys like Lloyd can have big dicks.
"It's probably why we stayed together those few weeks extra," says Anne.
"His marvelous cock?" Erin says a bit too loudly. The girls all laugh a breath-exhausting, bladder-straining laughter. Erin turns three shades of red. When they are sufficiently recovered, Erin drops her voice and asks, "So he was your biggest so far?"
"Yeah, and the sex was great but there was no way it could save us."
"Why not ride it out a bit longer? No pun intended."
"Well, the size was a bit awkward. Bigger is better, but it just gets too sore all the time. That's not something you tell a guy: 'I'm sorry but your dick is too big for a long-term relationship.' That's delving into facets of a man's ego I'd rather not explore."
"Was he bigger than Thor?" giggles Heather. Thor, Anne's vibrator, is enormous and has a Nordic design on it like Viking women might have had engraved on their vibrators.
"He was wider than Thor, but not longer. He was like a sex-starved dog on speed. It took away from everything. He once admitted to me that he jerked off before I came over to his place so that when we did it he would last a long time. It was bad: about three quarters of the way through it got painful and kept going thinking he was having problems coming."
"Why do guys always act like they're in competition with you to see who can come last? Either that or they act like they're in a porno movie," complains Betty. "When Nigel and I first started doing it, he would pull out and always try to shoot it in my face or on my tits."
"He didn't have an edge to him. He was too sweet and nice. I could see myself picking up guys at Brother Jimmy's when he's not around."
"Uh-oh," says Erin, who cries out for most of the restaurant to hear, "Free blow jobs for all frat boys on the Upper East Side!"
"SSSSSHHH!!" The table collectively admonishes her.
Anne continues, "And he would write me really terrible stories. He would bring them to me and I'd read them and they were horrible. I couldn't figure out whey he'd want me to read these."
"How bad were they?"
"He had one called Paula's First Boyfriend about a girl who was obsessed with Kermit the Frog – or he used some fictionalized version of Kermit the Frog so he wouldn't get sued, as if anyone would publish it. Anyway, the girl is so obsessed with Kermit the Frog that when she reaches puberty she gets a Kermit the Frog stuffed animal and sews vibrator onto it so she can have sex with it. She never stops either. She becomes an adult and is still fucking her Kermit the Frog doll.
"Then he had a really horrible one called The Abortion Penis where a man has the power to give women abortions by having sex with them. If a woman was even two days late, she could have sex with this guy and if she were pregnant she would miscarry. And no matter how far along a woman was or how gentle he was, she would lose her baby after having sex with this guy. So he hires himself out to abortion clinics as an alternative therapy. It lets women abort their babies without having an actual abortion."
"That's pretty sick," says Erin, thinking of the (non-intercourse-induced) abortion she had had a few years ago. She hadn't told any of her friends. Her boyfriend at the time gave her some money but didn't go with her to the clinic.
"He wrote it after I had told him I was five days late. I got it after we did it that night. He came up with this theory that good enough sex could cause an early miscarriage and that 'additional fucking' was the only birth control we should use."
"But he was only joking," says Heather.
"Yeah, but that's still too weird. He did other things too. When we went to Boston for his friend's wedding, he walked all over the hotel to look for the most remote and least-used men's room."
Anne continued, "He wrote poems for me when I wanted to go out and do things. He hated going to dance clubs. He begged me to let him watch me pee."
"What?!?" Heather and Betty were surprised.
