Roger says, "Well, see Bill, It's a little more complicated than that. I mean, she's kind of in, that's for sure, it's what they both told me. But right now she's what they call a 'provisional member'. You know what that means, right? The word 'provisional'? Good. What it does is gives her certain rights but not totally everything, not like she can walk in the front door of the club and order a cheeseburger. See there's a process."
"Provisional?"
"Yes."
"What's that mean? Like half in?"
"I guess you could look at it that way."
"Well, I'll put an end to that." It was time to finish this nonsense once and for all.
"You can try."
I didn't care for the way he said it, not one bit, but I had to keep digging. "And what's this process BS all about?"
"Well, to be frank, which I believe is always best..."
"Roger!"
"Yes, a process. And the thing is it goes right through you."
"Me? What the fuck does it have to do with me? I mean other than these guys want to bang my wife."
"Ummm...I wouldn't put it that way. Most of them don't even know Anna or you yet."
"Then what...?"
"They're just giving you a chance, an opportunity."
"A chance at what? What are we talking about here?"
"Well, monsieur. I told you. Comprennez-vous? It's a couple's club. Only couples get admitted. I don't mean the guys. They have separate rules for that, I mean people like you and I..."
"You and me." Thank you Anna.
"Exactly, guys like us, we have to come in as part of a couple. See? And that's how it goes through you."
"Couples only?"
"Right-O."
This was the loophole I needed. Clutching at straw? Sure, why wouldn't I?
"Couples? Good. So if we're not in together then she's not in?"
"Correct. But I hope you two give it a try. Claire says..."
"Why on earth would I want to do that?" I snorted and gave him my laser stare. This poor deluded numbskull.
"Don't you see Billy-boy? Isn't this what Anna talked to you about last night? Claire told me that she..."
"She never mentioned a club for black guys who want to fuck her, no. Maybe it slipped her mind." As I might have mentioned already, Roger doesn't seem to process sarcasm, takes everything literally.
"Having memory issues is she? I'm sure it's just temporary."
"Not my point Roger."
"But Billy, that's really not what I meant at all. I mean she talked to you about feeling guilty for lying. Right?"
"She did."
"And that is the point, the whole point of the club, at least for us couples. Honesty. You join up, see? Everything above board. No more lying. Not her, not you, not no one. It's all out in the open. Case closed."
He does that thing where you clap your palms rhythmically to clean off the dirt and dust. Job done. Mission accomplished. He sits there beaming like he just pulled a trump card. The idiot.
"Honesty, huh?"
"Exactement, monsieur."
"Or, you could look at it like this," says I, locking on his eyes with a steely fierceness.
"What's that?" He looks confused.
"Step one: I refuse to join the pervert club."
"But..."
"Step two: then Anna doesn't get in."
"But listen..."
"Step three: she doesn't get fucked by these guys to begin with."
"Yes, but..."
"And step four: there's no more lying that way either." Now it's my turn to clap my hands clean, a job well done.
Roger looks nervous, like this thing is getting away from him.
"Ummm, yeah. I take your point, which is quite an interesting one, but I see now that I messed up a little. See the thing is Anna has committed. The club made her provisional but she has committed."
"I thought you just told me it was up to me?"
"The part about joining the club? It is. That is completely up to you at this point."
"Well, what part isn't up to me?" I have a sinking feeling that there's some answer to this.
He leans in close, conspiratorial like, and says, "It's like this my friend. Anna committed and when the club made her a provisional it booked her a sort of what you might call something like more or less a date with one of the guys, Claire thinks it's probably Jevon, although we're not certain. I think they take turns but they don't like to tell us in advance, keep everyone guessing, which can be a real pain at times. Even Claire says that..."
"A date?"
"Yeah, sort of. One of the guys. Like three weeks from tomorrow."
"My wife has a date with one of these guys in three weeks?"
"From tomorrow, yes. Which is good, gives us all time."
"Time for what?"
"For the process."
"All right, forget that. An actual date?"
"Yessir."
"You're saying Anna committed to this?"
"Yessir."
"You're kidding me, right?"
"No sir."
"My wife agreed to this?"
"Yessir."
"Really, really committed?"
"Bill! Are you listening at all? How many times do I have to say it? That's exactly what I've been trying to tell you!"
"But..."
"Please Billy! For your own sake, try to keep up. This is hard enough without your attention wandering."
"I wasn't..."
"See, Anna more or less had to commit, I mean to get provisional, but from what the two girls told me she definitely wants it too, thinks it will be fun, something different, a bit of excitement, you know? So they booked it, like I said three weeks out."
"And what is this 'sort of a date' bullshit anyway? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, on the date, let's just call it that for now, Jevon, or whoever it is, I heard one guy say it might be Thomas, they're both great but I hope it's Jevon, and whomever, whoever it is, I can never remember which is correct, is going to pick her up at your place and like take her out to dinner or something."
"You're telling me you want my wife to go on a fuck-date with my permission?"
Roger gives me a pained expression and drops back into the vernacular. "Whoa dude! You're talking like this is up to me, like I made the plan. Don't shoot the messenger."
"Ok, sorry, sorry. I know that. But it is a fuck-date, right? You are saying that, right?"
"Oh, no. Please! You're not even close. It's nothing crude like that. All classy. All above board, old sport. It'll be a real old-fashioned actual date. Probably a nice dinner, like I said. Anna might get flowers out of it. One of the guys made it an afternoon picnic, that was a big hit too. And another guy did it as a river cruise dinner, you know, the old paddle boats with the waiters and waitresses dressed up like characters from the old South or something. Toot! Toot! That whistle always slays me. That was Amanda I think. Nice, nice girl."
"So you're telling me it's what? A get to know you thing?"