Date: Sat, 23 Jul 2011 07:20:42 -0700 (PDT)
From: don mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR  Chapter 11  by Donny Mumford

			  DYLAN'S FRESHMAN  YEAR

				Chapter  11

			     by Donny Mumford

Chubby  flips home-fries in  the frying pan, then turns down the heat a  little
to looks over at  Robby and me with a nervous  laugh. "Okay, guys... um, here
goes: the favor I need is for you two to be blind dates tonight for a friend of
Samantha's, and her friend's friend. They're from Boston College." Robby and I
exchange glances, then  Robby says, "Why would we want to do that, Chubby? Your
girlfriend is, pardon the expression, a bitch; I'm guessin' her girlfriend
probably is too." I jump in  with, "Yeah, and she can't stand Robby and me,  so
why does she want us to be blind dates for her friends?" Chubby goes,  "She's
not a bitch! You don't know her,  that's all. And while it's true Sam thinks
you're both immature dinks, and bad influences on me," and he chuckles at that,
then adds, "she also says,  'those two assholes are gorgeous', meaning you two,
so I've set up an appointment for her at the optometrist, but in the meantime
she  thinks fixing her friends up with  teen idols, like yourselves, will blow
them away." I'm rolling my eyes making a face at Robby, who says, "Where  would
we take these  girls, anyway?" Chubby's getting serious now  'cause he thinks
Robby's weakening; he  says,  "There's this awesome private party tonight at The
House Of Blues in Boston. A radio station is throwing the party to celebrate
fifteen years on the air, or some such shit. Anyway, Samantha's father is sales
manager for a company that's a big  sponsor on the station  and,  because  of
that, he received a bunch of VIP passes. It'll be cool... live bands and free
everything. You two are damn  lucky to even be asked to go." Robby and me are
all ears now,  but I'm still faking skepticism as I mutter, "Oh sure, you're
doing us such a big  favor... well, maybe these two gorgeous boys have something
else going  on tonight. What radio station is it, anyway?" Chubby goes  back to
stirring the potatoes, waving a hand at  me, saying, "Oh, what difference does
it make? I'm not gonna beg you, forget about it! I was actually trying to  do
you two a favor," and  Robby's like, "No wait! We'll go... right,  Dylan?"
Frowning, I'm like, "Not if Chubby's gonna be like that..." Robby's  looking at
me with raised eyebrows, his hands spread, shrugging his shoulders, like, "What
the fuck? Let's do it, it'll be cool!" Chubby says, "He's pouting  again, Robby;
he wants me to butter him up some more...  plead  with him. Hell, I could  get
blind dates  for these BC chicks in ten minutes by just standing out front of
the  quad holding up the passes to tonight's gig. But don't worry, I'll pretend
Dylan's doing me a favor." I'm pouting because Chubby's dissing me, I go, "Don't
be ridiculous!" Smiling, Chubby drops the spatula  on the counter and gets me in
a hug,  saying, "Pleassssse, come with us tonight, Dylan!" I struggle to get
free, muttering, "You're such an asshole, Chubby... everything has to be your
way.  Oh okay, I'll go, but only because Robby wants to." Robby's nodding his
head encouraging me as  Chubby let's go of me, saying to Robby, "Ya just gotta
kiss his  ass and he'll go along with just about  anything." I'm still a little
pouty because of the way Chubby blew us off so quickly a minute ago. I say, "You
really  shouldn't act like such a  big shot, Chubby... I mean, it's Samantha who
got the free passes, not you."  Chubby gives me another big smile, and says,
"You're so  cute  when  you're feelings  get hurt!" Robby's the peace maker,
"Come on boys, be nice!" then,  "What do these girls look like,  anyway?"

As I'm getting the orange-juicer out of the pantry I'm trying to figure out why
Robby's so anxious to do the blind dates; he's uncomfortable around girls.  And,
I'm still disappointed Chubby was so quick to give up on the idea of  us being
the blind dates; then it hits me, he just used reverse psychology on me.  Damn!
 But still, I do want to go because, what the fuck, it's The House Of Blues...
think of the  bragging  rights! It's worth it even if we do need to be with
girls. Chubby's telling us  something about the girls we'll be dating; he
describes one as overweight and short, and the other as  maybe having a tad too
much nose, and kinda thin, and real tall with an enlarged adams-apple. I'm
appalled, but Robby, with a straight face, says to me,  "You can have   the
female Ichabod Crane, Dylan. I'll take the carnival fat girl,"  and I realize
that, of course, Chubby's just breaking our balls. He's  laughing as I try not
to,  but blurt out a laugh anyway, saying, "Good God! They sound hot!" Chubby's
like, "Actually, I don't know what they look like; I've never met them, but what
difference does  it make?" I'm shaking my  head at that, and Robby's like, "I'm
outta here. I'll get the coffees and  see you all later!" The door slams behind
him as I'm thinking he's probably just realizing what he committed himself to a
blind date with a girl. Now it's  quiet in our apartment... I'm cutting oranges
in half getting ready to juice them, wishing I was the one going for the
coffees 'cause it's a bit awkward in here at the moment, and that's a rare
situation for Chubby and me, and I don't know why he's dissing me this morning.
 A minute later Chubby  comes over, and says, "Okay, bro... I didn't do
anything,  but I can see you're mad at me so, for whatever reason, I'm  sorry
for upsetting you.  Let's make up." I'm  dismissive, "You  don't have anything
to be sorry about...  forget about it." He hugs me again, saying, "I can't have
a good day unless you tell me we're 'good' 'cause I don't shine if you don't
shine." I stop cutting the oranges to look at him and realize he's serious,
which is sweet, but now I  feel like the asshole so I joke around, instead of
being serious, saying,  "The  only proper way to make up is with a kiss!" he
says, "Hmmm, does that rule apply to best friends, when both of the friends are
boys?" I say, "Of course!" Chubby  puckers up, muttering, "I'm ready," and I
can't help but smile.  Then I  can't help but kiss him, so I do... right on his
lips, and that simple kiss makes my  dick move in my pants. Chubby asks, "We
good now?" and I go, "Yeah, even though I know you used reverse psychology on me
earlier."   Chubby acts   indignant, "I most certainly did not! I never use
reverse anything!" and I say, "Ha! You  wasted your time with it anyway, because
 right from the  start I wanted to go to The House Of Blues." Chubby says,
"You're too  smart for me, Dylan... lets hug so I can  be sure you're not mad
anymore; I'll be able to tell by the way you hug back." We do our regular hug
and it feels so natural, so comfortable; our bodies meld, two into into one,
fitting perfectly together. We hold the hug for maybe five  seconds and my  dick
gets firmer with each second. Chubby lets  go, saying, "That's the proper
Dylan-hug alright... I can tell we're good when you hug like that. Now I'm A-OK
for a  nice day." I say, "One more thing, you need to promise to do at least one
dance with  me tonight." Chubby's getting a carton of eggs from the
refrigerator, muttering,  "Oh, of course, that goes without saying," and to make
it more absurd I add, "A slow dance!" Chubby cracks  open the  first egg,
saying, "Definitely, it must be a slow dance..." I go, "Okay, remember you
promised, and we're going to  do a lot of grinding too." He chuckles, then
sarcastically mutters,  "Riiiight...".

Robby  comes back with the coffees just as I finish  with the orange juice and
Chubby finishes beating the eggs. Chubby asks, "You boys ready?" and we go,
"Ready,' and he pours six beaten  eggs into a frying pan that's swimming in
melted butter. "Cook 'em slow,  Chub," Robby advises, and  Chubby's like, "I
fucking know how to cook scrambled eggs!" I smirk at  Robby, like, "Good one!"
as I'm pushing the handle down on the toaster,"... and breakfast is on.  As we
eat at the  kitchen counter we talk about the horrendous start the Red Sox are
off to this  spring, and then argue which team, the Bruins or the Celtics, will
bomb-out of the  playoffs first. We're typically  negative Boston fans, always
expecting  the worst, and that goes double when the Bruins are involved. After
breakfast we clean up the kitchen, then both Robby and  Chubby want haircuts.
Chubby's faux  hawk style  looks best when it's crisp, but I only need to cut a
little off as it hasn't been too many weeks since his last haircut. Robby wants
 the same haircut he and Connor have been rockin' for a while now... short,
combed down on top and flipped-up in front.  When  I'm done with those, Robby
tells me, "You need one too, Dylan, so hop up  on the stool and I'll take care
of  it for you.  You'll wanna look good for your blind date tonight."
Remembering the last disastrous haircut Robby gave me, Chubby makes a face at me
and covers-up a laugh with a fake cough. Robby's like, "What's so funny, Chubby?
Dylan has faith in me, don'tcha,  Dylan?" Chubby and I exchange another quick
look with my expression trying to get across, "Don't say anything!" as I say,
"Absolutely!" and I get up on the barber stool; Robby wraps the cape around me.
"How do you want me to cut it this time, Dylan?" I go, "Um, just a light   trim,
Robby...  I'm letting it grow  in." Chubby gives me a discrete thumbs-up as he
passes by on his way to the balcony. He  tells us he going out there for a smoke
and a  conversation on his cell phone, with guess-who... Samantha, of course.

Robby does minimal damage to  my hair after which he and I head out to buy
groceries for the apartment.   We share a smoke on the way to the  pickup while
trying to decide what to wear tonight. "Let's dress as twins,"  I say, and Robby
cracks up with that. "Oh yeah, that'll impress the shit out of our blind dates."
I go, "We'll be rockin' the gay theme for the chicks! Just imagine the look on
Sam's face ... it'd be a  classic." We decide not to do that though because
Chubby would be wicked disappointed  in us. After the grocery   shopping we do
some homework together and eventually ended up on one of the twin beds making
out and groping each other through our sweat pants. Two boners quickly show
up, one for each of us, and  heavy breathing follows. Robby smells so good! I
know I'm  always going on about that  but I can't ever get enough of him. We
wrestle  around on the bed, our lips locked together, and he ends up on top of
me dry humping my boner. Oh God! It's so sexy! After some of that,  Robby pushes
my head to the side and sucks on my neck giving me one of  those stinging
hickeys, but his lips  and tongue on my neck bring his face close to mine, with
his breath  blowing on me moist and warm makes it's worth a stinging hickey just
being this intimate with him. His body's pinning mine against  the mattress and
his odor surrounds my senses. I could do this for hours! I  hug his body and
moan his name... I love him so much my stomach aches. Done with the  hickey,
Robby sucks  on my   mouth, rubbing his nose against mine, then licks my face
like a dog and bites my earlobe and sucks on my earring before going back to my
mouth for a long, hot, French  kiss. I'm  making whining sounds  of pleasure,
extremely sexually aroused. Our arms encircle each other, holding us  tight
together, sweat's breaking out on our faces and on all the other places our
bodies grind together. Almost breathless, Robby says, right into my ear, his
lips leaving wetness  there, "Get your pants down, Dylan... I need to be inside
you so badly it's  sick!"

Desperate to  make that happen I flounce around under Robby while pulling at the
elastic waistband of my sweat pants and quickly managing to get both the sweat
pants and my underwear off my ass and halfway down my thighs.  Robby crawls down
off me and gets next to me lifting my legs,  saying."Put your legs in the air,
Dylan," which I do and he wrestles my pants off and smacks my  bare ass,  then
gets around facing me while pulling off his pants, then sits back on his ankles
inching up so that one of his knees is on either side of my buttocks. He looks
at me laying here panting with desire, then while grinning, he says, "Bend your
legs, silly... ya don't need to keep your feet in the air like that." I bring my
knees down to  my chest, my  feet spreading so I can see  Robby. A drip of
perspiration is at the tip of his  perfect nose and I'm thinking how Samantha's
right about him, he is  beautiful.  His cute haircut with his two-tone  blond
hair and his shiny blue eyes, so bright with anticipation.  I go, "Kiss me,
Robby!" He leans over and gives me a soft lovers kiss, then sucks on my top lip
pulling it away from my mouth before  letting go. Leaning down close to my face
now, his nose an inch from mine, he says, "I love  you!" followed by a quick
kiss, then a quick, whispered, "You're so fucking cute I could eat you up!"
Taking  my boner in his fist he  strokes it as he moves in again for a long
tongue-in-my-mouth kiss. I'm making quiet sounds, "Ooh, ooh,  ooh," at the back
of my throat while humping my hips up at Robby's stroking hand. Then I feel the
wet head of his cock at my  asshole. He pulls his lips from mine, and tells me,
"Ask me for it, Dylan." I'm hyperventilating I want it so badly. Sometimes it's
like this for me; sometimes it's hotter than hot... it's  a desperate craving I
have. I mutter, "Fuck me, Robby...  please, fuck me hard." He immediately humps
his cock inside  me past my sphincter ring and keeps shoving it up until his
crotch is  plastered to my ass. After a seconds pause, he pulls it all the way
out and then rams it right back in, then humps my hole fast a half dozen
thrusts, and, gasping for air, asks,  "Fuck ya hard like this, you mean?" and
I'm seeing stars and whining at the  hurt, but my cock moves on it's own leaving
a trail of precum on my  belly  in it's wake. My head's moving back and forth on
the pillow as I  groan reaching down to stroke my boner only to have Robby grab
my  fist and, holding onto it, he humps my ass a half dozen more times...  it's
going smoother now.   He emphatically  asks again, "Like this?" and I manage to
gasp, "Yeah, like that..." which sends Robby into a flurry of hip thrusts,
fucking me in a frenzy with sweat dripping off his face making little splashes
on my stomach. It's a  kaleidoscope of pleasure for me! I'm blowing out bursts
of air with grunts of, "Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!  Ahh!" with  every ram up my ass of his
fat headed, hard-as-wood,  boner.  I manage to get my eyes open, looking down to
see the pee slit of my cock actually quiver, then open wide as cum shoots out of
it forcefully, first spraying my stomach, then a long string of juicy white
spunk spurts all the way up to my neck,  followed by two more good spurts that
have me doing a silent  scream  of  joy  as Robby pushes my legs down next to me
and frantically humps my ass until one last hard thump against my buttocks
leaves his cock there as he fills me up with his creamy white  teenager's cum;
cum thick and sticky, teaming with sperm that's flying on  a useless mission to
fertilize an absent  egg. No squealing from either of us because our climaxes
are so overwhelmingly erogenous our brains can't deal with anything else. We're
both breathing hard, puffing  like  we've run a hundred yard dash, sensations
running from my cock and my ass to spread all over  my body. I  stroke my empty
cock and suck-in all the oxygen  I can get.  Robby's still humping my ass, but
he's slowing down now, and soon he lays forward on me and we embrace in some
sort of desperate manner, both of us covered in sweat which is squishing between
our chest to chest contact... our hearts  flutter and beat fast against each
other's chest.

A  minute  later I  hear, "Is  that what you had in mind, Dylan?" Robby asks
with a smirk in in voice, and I reply,  "Exactly what I had in mind." Robby's
face is next to mine as we lay here silent again, collecting ourselves; a couple
of minutes later Robby begins another make-out, sweat  joining our saliva and
spreading around our faces. Before long he reaches down, lines- up his most
recent boner, and then, "Ohhh, aghh, oh yeah," from me, as he slides it  back up
inside me, and we're attached once again. A long slow sexual encounter  follows,
feeling so good, almost dreamy, it's almost surreal. As Robby's humping me
slowly, my legs go around his waist trying to pull his cock further up my ass
with each penetration. We kiss, and lick, and suck on each others face or mouth
and it's as if we've left planet  earth  and formed our own part of the galaxy,
our own solar system of one hundred percent pleasure. Robby bites  my ear when
he finally has his second orgasm, and then he fucks me fast in my cum-filled
tunnel until I get off too... more stars in my vision of light and dark and this
time I do make an embarrassing squeal at the inception of my latest orgasm which
causes Robby to cover my mouth with one hand, holding the index finger of his
other  to his lips, going, "Shhhh, Chubby may have come back by now," which
seems  an incongruous thing to worry about at this exact moment. It strikes me
as funny and I start chuckling which gets Robby chuckling, and we both
accelerate that into one of those stupid laughing fits where you just  can't
stop.  I mean, he  fucked me like a wild man with the springs of the bed
squeaking noisily,  and then, when that wasn't enough for him, he fucked me
again slowly for about twenty minutes with the subtle regular squeak from the
bed  signaling only one  thing... and now, all of a sudden, he's worried Chubby
might hear something?  Plus, Chubby's well aware  whats going on in here; that's
if he's even home right now... so, come on with the "Shhhh"! When one of us runs
down on the laughing the other  does the finger to the lips thing, going,
"Shhhhhhhh," and it gets us laughing again. Eventually we run out of steam, and
I'm wondering, 'What the fuck's so funny?'  We roll out  of  bed for another
shower together feeling wonderful.  In the shower, I ask, "What if one of our
dates wants to get fucked tonight and we're like totally out of spunk, how
embarrassing is that gonna be?" Robby says, "First off, female Ichabod Cranes
do not fuck, so you're good... and fat ladies from the  circus haven't  been
able to locate their vagina for years, so I'm good  too. Nothing to worry
about," and we joke around about that for a while with Robby not showing the
level of bravado he'd been demonstrating  earlier, and that's because he's
getting more and more uncomfortable about the blind date as it gets closer and
closer to happening.

We walk around the bedroom drying ourselves and talking about  our blind dates;
I don't feel nervous about doing this because I've done it  before a few times,
but Robby tells me he's never been on a date with a girl in his life... which is
news to me. I thought he was just antsy around girls, not that we've ever talked
specifically about it  before.  I ask, "You mean you've  never been on any kind
of date at all?" He's  shaking his head, saying, "Never, and I'd get teased
about it by the guys on the baseball team, but everyone knows that, except when
I'm playing baseball, I'm shy. I use that as my security blanket; my cover." I
ask, "Didn't a girl ever  ask you out? I mean, like Sam says, you're  fucking
gorgeous!" He makes a face and blushes a little, saying, "Look  who's  talking."
I  say, "No, seriously... didn't you ever get asked out  by a girl?" It's easy
to  see he's uncomfortable with this  topic, so when he says, "Once in a while,
but I make lame excuses why I can't go out and, I don't know... I just never
went on a date, alright? What's the big deal anyway?" I  drop the subject and we
throw on some semi-clean clothes, then try to decide  what we should wear on our
blind dates, for real. I'm like, "Definitely something in the Polo brand, even
if it's just a T-shirt." Robby shrugs, and says, "Still  too cold for just a
T-shirt, how 'bout Merrimack sweatshirts and jeans." I go, "Yeah, and we can
rock some Converse... keep it simple." Robby's worried then, "We can't wear the
same thing. That was a joke, right?" He's definitely getting more and
more squirrelly the closer we get to date time, and I'm having a little  fun
watching  him squirm; usually he's pretty cool in most situations... shy with
new   acquaintances, but usually not nervous like he seems to be now. I don't
want to  make  it harder on him though, so I say, "You're  right.  You wear the
sweatshirt and I'll wear a T-shirt under an un-tucked, button-down Polo shirt."
Robby nods, adding, "Yeah, but don't button the collar; it'll look more casual
that way, like ya don't really give a shit what you're wearing." I liked that,
but Robby won't loosen-up much more than that, so I ask, in a nice way,  "Gee,
Robby.. if you're having second thoughts about this blind date thing, I'm kinda
wondering why you seem interested when  Chubby brought it up?" It's his turn to
shrug, "I didn't want to seem like a pansy or anything, and anyway, I thought
you'd squash the idea." I go, "Nah, I can't turn Chubby down about anything...
he'd never let me down." Robby takes a big breath, shrugging again, biting his
bottom lip. Trying  to lighten things up, I explain, "I can't turn him down, but
what I do is make  him nag me a  little before giving in to him.  It makes it
seem like I'm doing a bigger favor,  ya know?"   I  tap my forehead, saying,
"Smart, huh?" Robby doesn't get the joke, he's  pulling on his hoody, mumbling,
"I used to think me and my brother were the tightest brothers ever, but you and
Chubby might even be tighter... let's grab a smoke on the balcony."

Outside it's about fifty-five  degrees, quite a significant improvement from
just a month ago. I take the offered Marlboro  from Robby, asking, "Do a lot of
the ball  players smoke?" He's like, "Hell yeah, a lot of athletes do... it's
sort of a way to rebel  against all the restrictions put on us by the coaches,
and from all our work outs and practices too." I mumble, "You're aware that that
makes no fucking sense, right?" He goes, "Oh yeah, I know it's stupid, so what?"
It's my turn to shrug, but it's apparent we need to change the mood so I say,
"Front loading!" Robby looks up, asking, "We need front loading before our blind
dates... abso-fuckin'-lutely" I  go,   "Dude, we need  a  lot of it 'cause
you're getting more and more gloomy the closer we get to date-time... what you
don't realize though, is that blind dates can be a blast! I mean, we  don't give
a fuck.  Straight guys are hoping to score with their blind date, or if not
then, soon... and that's the last thing we want, so there's no pressure there on
us 'cause we don't give a shit." Robby's smiling a little, mumbling, "I guess...
but, hey, what do we talk about with  our dates." Flicking my half smoked
cigarette  against the railing, then kicking it over the side, I say, "Let's get
going on the front  loading, you'll have an easier time thinking of something to
talk about if you're half in the bag. And fer sure, if there was ever a party
that needs front loading, it's this one." We  saunter on down to the parking
lot, Robby asking, "We going to Tracy's?"  I go, "He's the only kid I know who
keeps booze on hand."  It's a short drive to Tracy's  condo; I call him before
we leave to be sure he's there and he is.  He can sell us a case of cold Coors
cans, but no hard liquor.  I was hoping for vodka 'cause you can disguise that
taste. It's pretty  much expected college students will do some front loading
before a party because you surely don't want to get to  the party sober with
everyone else high from one banned substance or another... that won't  work.

At Tracy's condo we hear Stephen Kellogg and The Sixers blasting in the
background as he invites us in for a sociable.  The sociable in this case is a
beer for each of us from the beer we just bought off him, but I'd never begrudge
Tracy a beer.   He's the reason booze has been available to us all year, and
at 'cost'. I know very well his keg parties are money  makers for him, but I
don't begrudge him that either because it's a hassle throwing those parties.
With our  beers in hand we step out on his balcony and crack open the Coors
cans, then Robby and I light up another cigarette and eventually the discussion
gets around to us explaining the reason for the case of beer. Robby and I
proudly exclaim we're going to the House Of Blues party. Tracy can't hide his
surprise that we're going to that ritzy private party, he goes, "Dudes, how the
fuck did you two boyscouts manage that?" We skirt the  issue a  little, keeping
it vague so  Tracy will think Robby and I have a mysterious connection of some
sort. Then he asks, "Who ya taking?"  and  we explain how that's the only bad
part: we got stuck with a couple of blind dates.  Tracy makes a face taking a
swig of beer, and goes, "Broads! Every girl in the world likes to hook guys up
with blind dates; it's because they think people are unhappy if they're not in a
relationship."  Robby and I are nodding  our heads  like we totally agree,
although  I've never given it a thought  before this. Tracy says, "Christ, if a
girl knew an unattached female hunchback-bell-ringer she'd call her friend
Quasimodo to see if she can hook him up with her." We're nodding and grinning
because Tracy's chuckling like he's just said something funny, and I kinda know
the Quaimodo reference is a Japanese guy, but I can't place why that's funny, so
I just say, "Fucking broads, huh!" Tracy tells us he tried for tickets to the
party without any luck, but he   says he and his main squeeze  are crashing the
party anyway, so we're to look for them. Then he gives us some advise, "Dudes,
look for us, but naturally  you won't see us until eleven-thirty or so. I always
make a late entrance; it indicates to others that I'm a rad person, ya know?
It's a statement that I go to parties all the time and therefore this one is no
big deal. Ya know what I'm saying?" Robby  burps, and says, "Phat!" and I go,
"Dude!"   We finish  our beers with Robby straining to get his down; that boy
can't drink worth a  damn.

Bumping fists with Tracy, saying goodbye, then I carry the case, minus three
cans, to the pickup and dump it in the back. Robby's climbing in the drivers
seat, saying, "Call Chubby and see if he wants to join us." I go, "I want him
to, but I'm afrain Samantha will tag along." Robby's like, "Oh balls, yeah...
but ya gotta offer, don't ya?" I'm like, "Yeah, you're right," and I call
Chubby's cell phone.  He goes, "Dylan, my man! Where ya been?" I tell him and he
goes, "Awesome  idea!  We'll get the girls over  for some  front loading, call
for a pizza or something and we can all get half smashed before making our grand
entrance at The House  Of Blues." I'm like, "The girls too?" and he patiently
explains, "Yes, the girls too, Dylan... they're an important part of  the blind
dates you and Robby have tonight, remember?" There's some   sarcasm in there for
sure; I go, "I guess," and then, repeating what Tracy told  Robby and me, "Ya
know, we don't want to show up at the party until at least  eleven-thirty," and
he says, "Are you nuts? Everythings compted at the party so we're getting there
early to scoff-up all the freebies." I ask, "What's compted mean?" and he says,
"It's free; compliments of the radio station for us VIPS." I go, "Okay, but if
we get there too early we'll look like nerds!" Chubby mumbles, "I don't know
where you come up with these crazy idea, but are good with the front loading?" I
confirm, "Yeah, I guess so, but I'm telling ya we'll be geeks if we get to the
party right as the doors open. Man, that's so uncool!" Chubby's talking to
somebody when I said all that, then he goes, "What's  that?" and realizing I'm
beating a dead horse with this stupid point about going late, I mumble, "Oh
nothing,  I'll see you later at the apartment." Chubby, as usual, is in a  good
mood, he says, "Great!  Good on   you for thinking about the front loading...
and, hey,  we'll all get  acquainted this way too... you know, the blind date
girls and the rest of us. The beer will ease the way, but can you kinda manage
Robby's intake... he can't hold his booze." I look over at Robby, and say to
Chubby, "Uh huh," and we click off. I go, "Everyone is coming to the apartment,"
Robby yells, "Oh shit! They're coming now, and  he glances at the dashboard
clock, adding, "It's not even six  o'clock! We're  not dressed, the apartment's
a shit hole." I'm thinking, "This is gonna suck!"

Back at the apartment, we decide that since we had showers earlier we'd just
re-do underarm deodorant and wash our face and hands, then get dressed for our
dates. Wearing a white T-shirt under a blue Polo button-down, I feel a little
too dressed-up, but fuck it! Cracking a second beer, I ask Robby, "You feel like
neatening up the apartment  a   little?" he looks around, and says, "Not really.
 Should we brush  our teeth?" I laugh a little  before realizing he's serious.
"Nah, we're drinking beer and smoking...  it's a lost cause.  Ya can only hope
your date drinks and smokes and  therefore won't notice your horrific breath."
Robby frowns, then says, "I'm holding off on my second beer until they get here,
so I'll be brushing." "Go for it, dude," is all I have to say to that.  Almost
an hour later I'm out on the balcony when  I see Chubby pull up in our Jeep. He
gets out with Samantha, and one other girl. Hmmm, wonder  where the other one
is? Two minutes later Chubby's bursting in through the front door of our
apartment, totally extroverted and full of personality. It's funny, from my spot
on the deck I can see the  front door opening the same time I can see Robby
walking down the hall towards the living room and as soon as Chubby comes in
with Samantha and her friend, Robby  does an   about-face right back into our
bedroom.  Heh heh, the poor kid's really nervous now; his blind date is here. I
come  through the sliding glass door, saying, "Bro, where ya  been?" and we do
the one arm hug and chest bump, as I  unenthusiastically add, "Yo, Sam...
whassup?" She  rolls her eyes at the girl she's with, like... "See what I need
to put up with?" then says to me, "Dylan, meet my friend, Christina Novella.
Christina, this is Dylan Newman, Jeffrey's roommate." Chubby hugs around my
neck, saying to Christina, "He's  not only my roommate and my best friend, he's
my brother too." She has a look on her face, like, "Can I believe this shit?"
and I say, "Nice to meet ya, Christine." She  makes a face with a negative nod
of her head, then says, "It's Christina... three syllables, Cris-tin-a."
Appalled at her rude attitude, I stumble on that, and go,  "Christinee?" and she
waves a hand at me in a dismissive   manner, saying, "Ah, okay, never mind." I'm
thinking, What the fuck?" as Sam asks, "Well, where's this case of beer
Jeffrey's been talking about?" Getting us all a beer from the refrigerator I'm
sneaking looks at Christina,  wondering if this is my date  or Robby's. He can
have her I guess, although for a girl  she's cute. Cute with small tits and a
hot ass, not that I care about that particularly... and, her hairdo is almost as
short as a guys.  She's wearing skinny jeans, a sleazy tank top with a lot of
flat belly showing, and Converse sneakers almost identical to mine. When I hand
her a beer the overhead light shines off her light, peach-fuzz mustache and I
notice she's wearing very little, if any, make-up. She's  rockin' that girl/boy
thing... what's that called, androgynous? Anyway, Robby makes an appearance now.
 He's like, "Oh! I didn't know you all were out here." What a crock that is, but
I high-five Robby, noticing his sweaty  palms,  saying,  "Yeah,  it's a surprise
party for your birthday!" Sam says, "Which birthday would that be, his twelfth?"
and Chubby goes, "Now why in the fuck would you say that, Sam?" She yells,
"Jeffrey! Watch your mouth!" and Christina says to Robby, "How the fuck are  ya,
I'm Christina... are you  able to  say that name?" Robby's looking at her like
she just landed from Neptune. He slowly says, "Christina,"  and she says, "It's
you and me tonight, stud... what's  your name?" Robby's glancing over to me in a
questioning way, so I say to Christina, "He's Robby Dickers, our other roommate
and another awesomely close friend!" Robby corrects me, muttering, "It's Rob
Dickers, actually," as Christina takes his arm, "Well, Rob, it's you and me
rockin' the night away 'cause I like a guy who can say my name correctly." Robby
repeats, in a robot-like voice, "Christina," and although I know he wasn't
trying to be funny, everyone laughs,  thinking he did that for a   joke. I asks,
"Where's my blind  date?"

Ignoring my question, Chubby punches Robby's arm, repeating, "Christina" the way
Robby just said it and everyone chuckles again, except Robby, who looks
confused. Then he repeats my question, "Where's Dylan's blind date?" He asked
the question in a  way I interpret as, "If I need to have one,  he better have
one too!" but I'm sure I'm the only one who picked up on that. Chubby says,
"She's having some  plumbing problems, she'll be along shortly."  Samantha is
furious, "Jeffrey! That's crude and rude!" then to Robby, "Rose will be along
shortly.  Her stomach's a little upset, that's all." Chubby says, "Like I said,
plumbing problems, heh heh," and Sam goes, "You're terrible," but she leans into
him with her arm goes around his  waist. A few minutes later we've all crowded
out on the balcony making small talk while us boys are smoking; everyone's
drinking beers. Christina's   sticking close to Sam waving her hand at the
cigarette smoke, making a face. Chubby says, "You girls don't need to be out
here, especially if the smoke's bothering you."  Christina mutters, "Fuck the
smoke," and Samantha snaps her head around giving Christina a nasty look. "Why
the potty mouth, Christina? Jeffrey's a bad influence  on you." Christina
laughs, and says, "Samantha, who the fuck are you  kidding, you're language
would embarrass a sailor," and in a prissy way, Sam goes, "Only when I'm with
the girls..." and they banter back and  forth as I strain my eyes looking at a
heavy-set girl down in the parking lot working hard at peddling an old-fashion,
one speed, boy's-style, twenty-six inch bicycle... the old-fashioned kind of
bicycle with fat tires and a fenders over the front and back tire. The snow's
all melted by now, but there are puddles of dirty water on the parking lot that
this hefty girl is splashing through.  I'd   laugh except it's so   weird. As
she gets closer I see a lot of leg... the girl's wearing a very short skirt and
a small tight top that looks like a bra... and, oh my god, she's got high heels
on.  Riding a bike with high stiletto heels on her feet!  My first impression
is, "How slutty can ya get?" but then maybe she's mentally  challenged or
something. What a bizarre sight, and she's headed right for us. I'm about  to
point her out to the  guys when Christina shouts out, "Jesus Christ! What's Rose
doing on that old fuckin' bike?" Everyone turns and looks,  as I'm thinking,
"You gotta be shitting  me! That's not my blind date, is it?" Samantha says, "I
left her the keys to my car so why's she riding the janitor's bike over here?"
Then she laughs, and I glance at Chubby, who's eyes are as big as mine. He's
looking back at me spreading his hands shaking his head a little, like... "I
don't know anything about this!" I'm giving him a hard look as I see   his
lips quivering, then he burst out laughing, joining the girls who are chuckling,
saying, "That goddamn Rose is a riot," and Christina goes, "Ya just never
fucking know what you're gonna get with Rose." Robby moves over to Christina
asking, "Is that Dylan's blind date?" She doesn't answer the rhetorical
question, but instead  says, "Ya know what, you're fucking cute!" Robby says,
"Thanks, you too..." What a crock! Now he's okay with potty mouth being his
date.   He's cementing that  deal by eliminating any chance he'll wind-up with
the bicycle beauty.

I'm biting my lip, then I  blurt out a laugh too. "Ah, the hell with  it!" I go
inside and get myself another beer as I hear Samantha screaming, "Rose! Rose! Up
here honey.  I'll send Jeffrey down to fetch ya..." I'm shaking my head
thinking, "Just when ya think things can't get any worse..." Chubby passes me
heading down to  fetch Rose, saying, "I    had no fucking idea, Dylan.  I never
met these girls." I give him a pissed-off expression, and he stops then, to say,
"She looks healthy enough though... ya know, maybe she can give you a ride on
the handle bars... just saying." I have to laugh, then I give him a
double-barrel finger salute, and he mumbles, "You just can't do  enough for some
guys... I hook him up with an interesting blind date, and all I hear...." The
rest is lost on me as the door closes and  he hurries downstairs to  guide Rose
up here. Lord have mercy! I go out on the balcony again and see that Rose is
right underneath us now; this close  I can officially declare, "Major  bowser!"
At least fifty pounds overweight with an extreme overbite... a three out of ten,
being generous. Christina says to me, "You're gonna have so much fun with Rose,"
she sees me roll my eyes a little, and adds, "Yeah, she's a few pounds
overweight, but you're a few pounds  underweight, so it    evens out. Hey, she's
intelligent and one of the best dancers you'll ever dance with." I smile,
saying, "Oh, I'm sure... no problem, it's all good." She says, "You'll see..."
Looking back over the balcony now and all I see is the bike on it's kick-stand.
Then a minute later Chubby appears at the front door with Rose and, oh my  God,
she's got a big safety pin through her belly button, and to make matters even
worse there's a lot of belly showing... a lot  of belly and a lot of  ass.
Christina asks, "Rose, what's with the bike, honey?" and Rose, in a sing-song
voice, as she's handing Samantha a small purse, says, "You took my purse by
accident, it's got my  cell phone and the car keys in it, so  I stole this bike
and rode around looking for this address." Christina's so sorry... blah, blah,
blah... then, "Oh, here's your date for the night, Rose," Christina looks over
at me, and says, "Get over here Dylan!" which I do, my eyes   wide... fuck, I'm
scared now. "Rose  Garner, meet  Dylan..." then to me, "I forget your last
name." I shake Rose's surprisingly small hand, mumbling, "It's Newman, Dylan
Newman." Rose moves fast, getting me in a big hug, saying, "Shit, I might kidnap
you!" I go, "Heh heh, nice to meet ya." Now I'm noticing that she also has a
fine hoop through the outside of both nostrils,  and, God forbid, when she turns
around to grab a can of beer I see a ridiculously ugly antler tattoo on her fat,
lower back... ass antlers. This is  definitely a  cringe-worthy moment for me
and I glance up to see Chubby watching me with this look of amusement on his
face. I slide up to him,  muttering, "Oh yeah, this is way horrifyingly
hilarious alright! You bastard, you knew! Didn't you?" He's laughing out loud
now, letting it all out; then he manages to say, "I swear to God I had no idea!
Really, bro!" and from behind, Sam's asking, "What's so funny, Jeffrey?" I
depart before hearing his   lie.

In the kitchen Rose, Robby, and Christina are huddled together. Rose says to me,
"Get over here, blind date, you're all mine tonight." In the kitchen's bright
overhead light I notice her hair is an impossible shade of red.  And while I'm
having that thought, Robby says to me, "They think we dye our hair the same
color."  I'm looking  at Rose's hair, going, "Whaaaat? You think there's a dye
this perfect, a two-tone blond dye like this?" as I'm pointing to my head.
Christina asks  me, "Do you cut  your own hair?" and I remember the trim Robby
gave me earlier today and blush as Robby interjects, "What's all this talk about
hair, anyway?"  and we drift into the living room to rejoin  Chubby and Sam, who
are involved in a make-out as we walk in. Christina asks, real pushy like,
"Okay, what's our plan for the night?" Chubby says, "We're front loading here
and then we're going to the party...   simple." Rose says, "When are we eating?"
which has Chubby  and me exchanging glances, and then trying to cover-up our
blurted out laughs with fake coughs... of all of us, Rose needs food the least.
Samantha, knowing what we're laughing about gives Chubby the evil eye, then she
says, "We can order pizza," and Rose says, "I'm a vegan so it's gotta be a pizza
with non-dairy  cheese." I'm thinking, "Is there any way this girl can be a
bigger pain in the ass?" Leaving that problem to others, I go out on the
balcony, mumbling something about a smoke as I leave, but I really just  want to
get some  fresh air; girls are exhausting. Robby follows me out and after we've
lit our cigarettes, he blows smoke out, saying, "The blind  dates aren't as bad
as I expected." I  look over at him quickly, a scowl on my face, and see him
holding back his laughter.  I go, "You and Chubby are having a good time with
this, aren't you?" He says, "You could  have  grabbed  Christina for yourself,
you were out here first, but you're  speech impediment disqualified you... it's
Chris-tin-a... I go, "Are they a couple of assholes, or what?" He says, "Perfect
friends for Samantha, don't ya think?" I go, "Sam only knew Rose until today,
but yeah... those two are perfect together." Robby says, "I think Christina
might be a dyke," and we talked about  that possibility until Chubby sticks his
head out to say, "Will you two blind dates please get your asses in here and do
your job."  Robby and I, at the same time, say, "Fuck no!" and we  laugh as
Chubby  joins us outside. We smoke, drink, talk, and laugh at everything... in
other words, have fun until Sam opens the sliding glass door, and  says,
"Jeffrey, get in here!" Chubby goes,  "Yes, mama... I'm coming." She pinches
him, and mutters, "You'll be coming for real later on, pretty boy," then to us,
she says, "The pizza's here," then turns her back on us,  the  bitch.  Robby
says, "What the  fuck is non-dairy cheese?"  As we go inside, I say, "We're
about to find out."

The pizza sucks... I'm sorry, but that's the honest truth.  The vegan cheese,
made from god-only-knows-what, hadn't melted on the pizza like regular cheese.
 Most of us sprinkle on a lot of Parmesan cheese, which isn't ideal but it
partially masks the  offensive vegan cheese. Sam, with a mouthful of the vegan
pizza says, "Isn't it admirable of Rose to eat a vegan diet?" and Christina
says, "Yes, I'm a vegetarian but I've been thinking of converting.  Leading a
vegan life is a  life change, and  not to be taken lightly." To break the girl's
balls, Chubby says, "Expired eggs: I've heard you can eat eggs beyond their
expiration date.   Do any of you have experience with  this?" and of course he
says it all with a straight face.  Samantha  looks disgusted, and says, "Vegans
don't  eat  eggs, and why would you want to eat one past  it's expiration date
anyway?" Chubby looks properly chastised for a second, then asks, "What the fuck
do vegans eat, anyway?" Sam gives him a hard look for using the F-bomb, but her
friend, hefty Rose, takes the question seriously and bores the shit out of
everyone stating a long list of things vegans can eat, many of which I don't
want to eat. I'm on my forth beer when my vegan  date takes the weirdness up a
notch.  She says, "Ya know, not to get all philosophical on you, but reading and
politics are really only for the bourgeoisie while the proletariat more or less
busy themselves with trying to live an equal  existence... you'd be  surprised
at the number of people who don't see this, or recognize it for what it is.
 People are so stupid!" Chubby, Robby, and me are  crossing our eyes, making
faces, as Sam gets all excited, "See how brilliant she is? I learn so much from
Rose, it was a blast  growing up with an   intellectual, let me tell ya." Then
she spots us  guys goofing on Rose's absurd dissertation. "Goddammit! That's
what I'm talking about! Jeffrey gets with these two nitwits and he regresses
back to their infantile level of behavior. Don't show your ignorance boys,
listen to Rose and try to learn." Chubby says, "Bull shit, she's talking in
circles about something nobody here knows or cares about." Then to cover up the
insult he quickly adds, "Rosie, are vegans allowed to eat Butterfinger candy
bars?" She's trying to keep up with his changing topics, then says,
"Butterfingers! Certainly not! There's a chocolate coating involved with that
candy bar, right?" Chubby nods his head as if Rose just cleared it all up for
him.  Samantha's not fooled by Chubby's misdirection as she shakes her finger at
him, saying, "You're going to get it, Jeffrey,"  but she's half  laughing when
she says it, and then pokes him in the side. The conversation only goes
downhill from there.

I try   to escape to the balcony again but my blind date,  Rose, follows me and
leans into me, asking, "Are you gonna try to get in my pants tonight?" and it
occurs to me that she's been drinking beer steadily, so I ask, "Hey, aren't
yeast living things? Yeast is part of beer, right?" She says, "You're the best
looking boy I've ever even talked to, and your roommate Ronny is hot too." I
say, "What about the yeast thing?" and she  goes, "Technically I shouldn't drink
this because Coors isn't on the approved vegan list, but there are beers that
are... mostly German beers. Anyway, vegetables are alive too, but we eat them.
 We're human beings who need food so we compromise a little, here's the general
rule: anything with fin or legs we won't eat, but other than that we will." She
does sound a little smart, but her appearance is disturbing, not  that I'm so
shallow I couldn't be interested in someone just because of their appearance...
well, maybe  I'm a little bit shallow in   that regard, but it doesn't count
here because she's a  girl; she could be Miss America and I wouldn't be
interested. As I blow smoke over the railing Rose goes into a long lecture about
the evils of smoking... she's not a horrible person, but I just wish so badly
that she were somewhere else. To say something, I go, "Just wondering, but do
short skirts and high heels normally go together." She laughs, and says, "You're
too innocent to know this, but that's kind of an insulting question." I mumble,
"Sorry, I just wondered," and she adds, "Sweetie-pie, the shorter the skirt, the
higher the heel." I go, "Heh, heh... oh, I see," but that's my last attempt at
conversation.  Not Rose though, she's very chatty and shortly I'm getting a
headache from listening to her sing-song way of talking, and from terminal
boredom, but I don't want to hurt her feelings so I try for some eye contact
while concentrating on not yawning, which will usually bring on   a yawn about
as quick as anything you can name so, to block a yawn I fake a big sneezing fit
which even sounds phony to me. She picks-up on it, and says, "I'm trying here,
pretty boy, but it's a struggle.  Are you interested in science, by any chance?"
I want to fucking scream, "NO!" but instead I say, "Very much, but lets get
inside 'cause I gotta take a whizz." She makes a face, and says, "Samantha's
right about you," which I ignore.

Inside, I go into our  bedroom's bathroom and lock the door, loving the quiet.
 After a bit I take a piss, then wash up and brush  my teeth. Combing my short
hair doesn't take much time, then I smile thinking about the "do you cut your
own hair?" comment, and how fast Robby changed the subject.  That gets a chuckle
out of me, but I'm all out of things to do in a bathroom so I reluctantly leave
my sanctuary and rejoin the group.  Chubby says, "Ah, good... here's  Dylan
now." Then to me,   he says,  "We're leaving for The House of Blues, I'll take
Sam in the Jeep and you and Robby double in the pickup... okay?" I shrug, then
whisper to Chubby, "Jeffrey, is it okay if I come with you instead?  I'm afraid
of these blind date girls." He laughs, and says, "No, it's not okay. See you at
the club! This will be fun..." Turning around I see Rose looking in the mirror
in the family room putting on more make-up.  She's already got enough on to
last a couple of weeks, but I say  nothing.  Christina's been pleasant enough,
playful with Robby... like a sister's playful with her  cute little brother.
 Damn! I had a chance for that, but instead I get Samantha's lifetime friend,
who wants me to get in her pants.  This should be a hot time tonight... not!!!
Maybe some hot guy will rescue me at The House Of Blues..........

to be continued....

Donny Mumford      thinat20@yahoo.com