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BrewPub #105
I’m flirting with the woman to my left, who is married to my good friend Jerome, also to my left.
Me: “What’s he got that I don’t got?” (Jerome is black, she’s white, and between us, we push the race thing purty far)
She holds her hands about a foot apart. The three of us laugh.
Guy sits down on my right, asks if his smoke is bothering me.
Me: “This is a BAR! This is the last friendly refuge for smokers! Don’t ask!”
Here’s the question: Why is it, that even when I’m actively looking for just one good woman, I always seem to make a new guy friend, invite him to my motorhome, and have a wonderful evening together.
Of course, we always spend the first half-hour convincing each other we’re not gay…