"I Want To Fuck Your Wife"
Now isn't that an interesting thing to hear from the guy standing at the next urinal! So many possible responses ran through my mind. But I hold my cards close to my best at whatever I do. I don't want my opponents getting a sneak peek at my plan, or as was currently the case, my lack thereof. Seriously, who gobsmacks a guy while he is peeing? Is all etiquette gone from this world?
The answer is clearly "no," as I demonstrated by not even looking at him. Why not? Well in one respect if I looked him in the eye, he could conceivably read mine, so no. The only other reason I would look his way, as we both stood there making room for the "next round," just wasn't the way I prefer to measure an opponent.
Time to play my hand. Shake, tuck, zip, turn, and go with a straight flush. I headed to the sinks to police my hands and wouldn't you know, he followed me.
"I said I want to fuck your wife."
"Good to know."
"You don't believe me."
"Join the club! My wife is gorgeous. Everyone wants to fuck my wife. Let's just say I think your chances are slim."
"I have lunch with her every Tuesday."
"Ah, yes. Her Tuesday treat. You take her to her favorite restaurant."
"You know that?"
"I do. She tells me you always pick up the check. That's very generous of you, tres galante."
"Of course. The man always pays."
"Well, I appreciate your manners, and thanks for saving me the money for her lunches, and for satisfying her hunger for Thai food. It's not my favorite, and since you've been taking her there, I haven't had to. Now if you'll excuse me."
I headed to the bar. He followed me. This was getting annoying.
"I'm telling you, I've been softening her up. She really likes me I can tell."
"Yeah, the way she twirls her hair when she's talking to you? The way she hold your eye when you look at her?"
He nodded, but he seemed a little surprised that I was describing her actions so clearly. Poor guy, he didn't know what he was getting into.
"Maybe she was leading you on."
His armor cracked a bit. He didn't seem quite so sure. However he rallied.
"You can talk all day if you want, but let me tell you how this is going to go. When your wife arrives, she's going to join you at your table. Then with her first sip of the wine, I'll be there. I'm going to take her from you. She will dance with me, and then she will leave with me. Then I will take her home, and fuck her."
"It will cost you."
I took a sip of my bourbon. I was really in no hurry. My wife was nothing if not habitually prompt. She would arrive early if not on time. It was one of the things I loved about her, and counted on.
"You see my wife and I have a very close relationship. If one of us gives something extraordinary, the other gives something equivalent. One of us cooks, the other cleans up. One of us rakes leaves, the other bags. One of us gets a foot rub, the other gets a back rub. And when one of us gets short changed in some way, the other makes up for it, but makes sure everyone involved in the 'short changing' pays up too.
"For example, last year, my boss needed me to work over our anniversary weekend. We had planned a trip to Tahoe for two weeks. Instead of the week we planned, I took her for two, I also insisted my boss pay the tab for first class upgrades. I made the celebration twice as enjoyable to compensate her disappointment, and my boss not only enhanced the experience, but he also learned to plan better for things that required my efforts."
"So for taking her from me at our dinner, dancing with her, and taking her home to fuck, we will start with you paying for my evening. Dinner, wine, cocktails, tip for us both will run say...$250."
I knew the bartender well, as this was my favorite haunt, and he had been discreetly listening to us. I gestured to him, and he quickly moved to ring up the tab. My nemesis was a little concerned. This wasn't quite what he expected.
"Next you'll need to reimburse me the car service. I hired a town car so we could enjoy a different wine with each course, so neither of us will be driving. The tab is $150, so your share is $75. She'll pay me the rest later."
"You want me to give you $75 more?"
"I assure you, you don't have a snowball's chance in hell if you don't respect our traditions and practices."
He reluctantly peeled off four twenties and set em on the bar.
"You owe me five."
"I don't make change. Tell her she owes you an extra hump, if it gets that far."
"If it gets that far? What the hell! I just gave you three hundred bucks, she damned well better fuck me now."
What an ass. But the hook was set. I might as well reel him in.
"Oh no you didn't! You just insinuated my wife is a prostitute. You did not pay to have sex with her. You have merely compensated me for what your interruption of our evening will cost me. If you were paying for her priceless company, you'd need to take out a sizable loan. Real estate will be required. Maybe gold boil lion. You have not begun to achieve your goal. Oh and your math sucks, you gave me three twenty five. Now about that dance. She will, no doubt dance with me tomorrow night, to replace what I missed. However you owe me the same consideration. Let's dance."
"I don't dance with guys."
"Then we dance in the old western way. Let's step outside."
"What, you're going to shoot me? We're going to duel? Isn't that a high noon kind of thing?"