The boys night

One of my group of friends decided to have a boys night one Friday, you know, drinking and whatever else boys do (yes, I think there was porn involved). How do boys watch porn together, I wonder? At the end of the movie (plot filled as it is) is there is a lot of throat clearing and uncomfortable squirming as no one wants to stand up quite yet? Perhaps a few, “Can you pass me that cushion?” (and no, I DO NOT mean for kneeling on). Who knows?

Anyhow I was away at a course in Melbourne for the week but I was arriving back that night and I had been speaking to one of my (girl) friends who said she and one of our other friends were going to crash the boys night. I said if I got back early enough I would join them.

My plane arrived home at about 9pm and (to cut a very long story short) my bag had missed the plane (fuck the airline – whatever…). So I am already pissed off and up until this point I had decided to go home and watch TV, my mum was coming to visit me this night too, so I gave her a call to see where she was only to find out she was still at her house and it being a 2 hour drive to get to mine (which for some reason mum always manages to stretch to 3) I thought, screw this I’m going to the boys night.

I told my mum to call me as she was getting into town and I would go home to meet her, this arranged I picked up my Bacardi and a bottle of Coke and off I go (yes I always have a supply for emergencies of this sort – as a matter of fact, I have a relatively well stocked bar at my place, I am not an alcoholic, it’s just for emergencies, as I have previously stated – what is it they say? The first sign is denial). Our illustrious hosts place is at the end of my street so a quick drive (no, as close as it was you don’t walk around my town after dark) and I am there.

I meet up with the other two girls outside and we decide a full frontal assault is the best approach (full frontal is just an expression, there was no removal of any clothes, well not ours anyway). So we knock and wait. You can hear strange sexual noises, moaning and the like, and when the door finally opens (the TV is turned off at this stage – I am assuming this is where the noise was coming from and let’s leave it at that) there is a look of surprise on our hosts face.

“Uh, hi”.
“Hi there, can we come in?” Says one of the girls pushing past him.
“Ahhh, ummm, sure, I guess”.

Scowls are on the faces of every other guy in the room. Looks as though they are going to have to make this a PG party now the girls are here, poor fellas. I’m sure if they offered we would have at least attempted to watch the porn, for a little while, anyway.

Once the boys all recover from our rude interruption and can stand once again without embarrassment, we move to the much cleaner forum of drinking games. We play one where everyone sits around the table and two opposing people are given a glass and a coin the object is to bounce the coin on the table and have it land in the glass (which is quite difficult to the unskilled, ie, me) and then pass it to the next person. If both glasses end up in front of one person they have to skull their drink. So this goes on for over an hour and the room is getting fuzzy and I am getting progressively worse and worse as I can no longer see the coin or the glass quite as clearly as I should be able to. By this time the table has an array of tiny dints from the coins, which our host assures us is fine, no really, it’s fine!

Then the boys decide to tell little stories about themselves. Just so you can gauge the level of friends I have here is one of their stories. I am not sure that many of the stories in the telling directly relates to any of them personally, you know, the I have a friend who…except the one about the prostitute, which I will save for another day…. Incidentally all the stories were about their sexual exploits or drugs.

So the tale begins.

A few years back (bear in mind this guy is 21 now). He and some of his friends got hold of some Viagra (now you can already see where this story is going). The pills are kinda small, like aspirin, he said. So he discusses it with his friends and decides, like aspirin that you really need to take two to get any effect. So he chugs them down. What happens next, well… he tells us his heart starts to race and he get this sweaty horrible feeling like he’s about to have a heart attack. And subsequently gets the desired effect from the pills, a ‘bone’ (direct quote, umm, yes nice use of the English language – I am beginning to think this word is commonplace in the male vocab). He said it was as though it was angry, a raging hard-on, if you will, he tried everything to get it to go down, he said that he had sex with his girlfriend almost constantly (I’m sure this was an exaggeration, but not by much) to try to get rid of it. He had a ‘bone’ for two days before it finally subsided. By the end of the story we were all rolling on the floor laughing. He said he would never touch the stuff again (they all say that). Let that be a warning to you boys who are thinking about this, just one is enough (so I’m told). And if you are keen I have plenty of spam email I could send your way.....(when will they learn that I don’t need Viagra and I don’t need a larger penis either, as a matter of fact I don’t have one at all!!)

Anyway a little while later my mum called and I got her to pick me up, I left my car there and walked back around to get it the next day (drinking and driving is bad kids). Some of the guys were still there, but as I had a visitor I couldn’t stay, most of them were looking a little worse for wear, I love how Bacardi doesn’t give me a hangover!