Sweet Little Thing(12)

He had a point. “Yeah, I guess. Where are we headed?”

“We’re meeting the guys at the Red Bar.”

“I love that place—they have the best jukebox.”

We entered the tiny red bar and found Josh and Kyle sitting at the end. As soon as they spotted us, Josh stood up, threw his pudgy arms into the air and yelled, “Dicks before chicks, man!”

I ducked behind Tyler, shaking my head. In the five seconds it took us to reach Josh and Kyle at the end of the bar, they had already ordered me an Irish Car Bomb. After high fives and fist bumps, Josh pushed the beer and shot toward me and started chanting, “Chug, chug, chug.”

Josh was a cross between Chris Farley and Jack Nicholson. He was overweight with plenty of stupid energy, but he had these really exaggerated eyebrows and an overbearing forehead, which gave a permanently sinister look to his face.

I dropped the shot in the beer and downed the whole thing in three huge gulps, then slammed it back down on the bar.

Kyle, who was always with Josh, was the perfectly innocent sidekick. He was skinny, blond, and a virgin at the age of thirty, which basically made him the butt of all jokes. He and Josh were Tyler’s old roommates. They’d met in college when all three of them worked part time at Subway. They still called themselves sandwich artists—ridiculous.

Kyle was a decent-enough-looking guy, so it was hard to understand how he hadn’t gotten with at least one girl. The only explanation I could come up with was that he was always with Josh, who was the female deflector. In bars, women wouldn’t come within ten feet of Josh, yet he always found a way to get a girlfriend. At the time, he was dating a belly dancer he’d met while she was performing at a Mediterranean restaurant.

“Speaking of chicks, how’s your girl, Josh?”

“She’s great. She’s working tonight. You guys want to go check her out?”

“Uh, no,” Tyler said.

Josh objectified his own girlfriend in the strangest way and then told everyone she liked it, another reason I couldn’t stand him.

“What’s her name again, bro?” I asked.

This time Kyle chimed in. “Saphir!” he blurted out.

Josh turned toward him and glared before turning back to Tyler and me. “That’s her stage name. And Kyle here got to see her perform last weekend.”

“Did I ever,” Kyle said dreamily.

Josh elbowed him.

“Is that an Indian name?” I asked.

“Her real name is Brittney. She’s from Kentucky, total white girl, but man, she can shake it. You know what I mean?” He wiggled his Jack Nicholson eyebrows.

“Nice,” I said, smiling sarcastically.

“Kyle, when are you gonna go for it?”

“Go for what?” The question terrified him.

“What do you think?” Tyler said.

“I’m waiting for the right girl,” he replied in a squeaky voice before taking a large gulp of beer. He was tapping his fingers on the bar nervously.

“She’s cute.” I pointed to a small, unintimidating-looking woman standing a few feet away, trying to get the bartender’s attention. “Why don’t you go buy her a drink?”

“You should,” Josh blurted out. “I’ll help you.”

“No!” Tyler and I yelled in unison.

Josh didn’t listen and Kyle just sat there, eyes opened as wide as they could go. Josh stood up on his toes to see over the other patrons blocking his view of the tiny, short-haired blonde. “Hey, hottie!” he yelled.

“Oh, God.” I planted my face in my palms over the bar.

“Yeah, you, Tinker Bell. My buddy here wants to buy your sweet ass a drink.”

“Christ,” Tyler mumbled.

Kyle literally sank within himself on the stool. His expression was nothing short of horrified. The girl shook her head and moved farther down the bar, away from us.

“Way to go, dickwad.” I said to Josh.

“What? That chick was a bitch. I saved Kyle from some serious heartache.” He smacked Kyle on the back.

“Ouch. I don’t need your help, Josh. You f*cking cock block me every time we’re out. What is your problem?”

“Time for more shots!” Josh announced.

Several hours of irresponsible binge drinking went on before the shit hit the fan. Apparently while Tyler and I sat unaware, arguing over where to get the best pizza, Kyle and Josh were having a heart-to-heart. It started when Josh apologized for the scene earlier with Tinker Bell. The conversation went on and on, both of them professing their drunken love for each other while Tyler and I continued an old argument about the difference between yams and sweet potatoes—that’s the kind of profound shit Tyler and I talked about. We were startled back to reality when we heard Josh shout, “What the f*ck?”

“She came on to me,” Kyle said with his hands up defensively.

Josh went toward him in what appeared to be the universal gesture for I am going to kill you by strangulation while yelling, “You didn’t have to f*ck her.”

“Oh, shit, you f*cked the belly dancer?” Tyler said to Kyle.

At the same time, Josh blurted out “Brittney” while Kyle yelled “Saphir.”

The men immediately started rolling around on the ground, trying to kill each other while Tyler tried to break it up. As hard as it was, I managed to ignore all the commotion.