The Average American Male Page 6

  As we eat and talk some more we notice that the guy who left his first date earlier still hasn’t come back. The hot-bodied bitch is sitting at the table by herself, getting visibly worried.

  Alyna says, “I bet he snuck out the window or something. I feel so bad for that poor girl.”

  If the guy did sneak out the window, I admire him.

  The front door opens and a guy in full knight armor walks in. Everybody in the place stops eating and watches the following first-date nightmare unfold.

  The knight walks over to the table where the hot-bodied bitch is sitting alone and gets down on one knee. He flips up his visor and it’s the guy who went to the bathroom twenty minutes ago. He proposes. She accepts. The whole place goes crazy. As Alyna stares in silence at the unfolding events, I can’t tell if she’s disgusted or on the verge of tears because this moment is so magical.

  I want to know what’s running through Alyna’s head. It’s probably something attaching far more meaning to this event than it deserves, especially since it happened on our first date. Casey would have thought the whole thing was a sign from God that we should get married.

  To diffuse the situation I try to make a joke. “I guess they’re having the better first date now.”

  She says, “That is so fucking stupid.”

  I can’t tell if she’s talking about the knight or about my joke.

  She says, “Does that guy think he’s being romantic?”

  She’s talking about the knight.

  “It worked.”

  “I just think marriage is so stupid. Seriously, what we just saw basically defines all marriages—some guy makes an ass out of himself and the girl is too overwhelmed by it to think straight enough to say no.”

  I’m impressed. I say, “So you don’t want to get married?”

  “Look, I know this is kind of a big subject for a first date and everything, but no, I don’t want to. I don’t want to have kids either. What about you?”

  “Same pretty much.”

  She smiles again.

  As we finish eating, the newly engaged couple is visited by practically every woman in the place. They all tell the guy in the knight suit that it’s the most romantic thing they’ve ever seen. Alyna just eats her pasta.

  When we’re done, I pay the tab and we leave.

  Once we’re in my car she says, “So what’re we going to do now?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “I want to see where you live.”

  I wonder if I should fuck her doggie style on the first date.

  As we walk through the front door of my apartment, I can feel my cell phone vibrating in my pocket. I know it’s Casey, so I don’t answer it.

  I say, “Do you want something to drink?”

  “No. I’m fine. How long have you lived here?”

  She walks in and sits on my couch.

  “A year or so.”

  I pour myself something to drink and then join her on the couch. Her pants are riding down in the back a little bit to give me a small shot of the top of her ass. She’s wearing a thong, which contradicts my earlier assessment of no underwear at all.

  I say, “So…”

  She takes the cue, leans in, and kisses me. Her mouth is warm and wet and I can already feel it on my cock. I get a hard-on instantly.

  She pulls back and looks at me.

  She says, “I better get back home. I have some tests to study for this weekend.”

  I feel like I just hit a fucking brick wall going sixty and I’m flying through the windshield as I say, “What?”

  “Yeah, I just have some things to do and I should really go home.”

  I’m too confused to be pissed off and I say, “Okay, if you have to go I’ll give you a ride.”

  “That’s okay, I can walk.”

  “It’s late. I can drive you.”

  “No, really, it’s fine.”

  She gets up off the couch and says, “I had a really good time tonight.”

  “Me too, so why are you leaving?”

  “We just probably shouldn’t see each other again.”

  “Why?”

  “Listen, I should have never gone on a date with you in the first place. I have a boyfriend. We’re having some problems right now, but he’s still my boyfriend.”

  Holy shit. I want to tell her that I have a girlfriend, that it doesn’t matter, that they don’t have to know. Instead I say, “Oh…”

  She kisses me on the cheek and says, “Seriously, thanks, I had a really good time and you’re a really nice guy.”

  She turns to leave and I say, “Why did you go out with me in the first place?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  And she leaves. As she walks out the door, I wish I would have fucked her or at least felt one of her tits. I lie down on my couch and smell the spot she was sitting on. I jerk off to the thought of her sucking my cock. I shoot my load into a napkin that’s been on my coffee table for a few days. I stare at the ceiling wondering if I could’ve fucked her if I had tried a little harder. I wonder if she’ll fuck her boyfriend tonight. I wonder if he’ll fuck her doggie style. I wonder if she’ll think about me while he does.

  I experience a surprising moment of genuine sadness as I realize that I might never see Alyna again, when my cell phone vibrates again and it’s Casey calling from her parents’ house in Nebraska. She asks me what I did tonight but doesn’t let me answer before she tells me the good news that her parents were so excited when she announced our engagement that they’re coming out to visit their future son-in-law in a few weeks.

  She’s still talking about something when I put the phone next to my head and fall asleep.

  chapter fifteen

  The Morning After

  I wake up, take a shower, and realize I’m supposed to be eating lunch with my gay buddy Carlos in thirty minutes.

  Forty-five minutes later, I walk into the Beverly Center California Pizza Kitchen to see Carlos sitting by himself and pissed off.

  He says, “Where the fuck have you been, you little asshole?”

  “I was tired. I forgot.”

  “You fucking forgot. You ungrateful piece of shit.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Well, now you have to buy my lunch because you’re a fucker.”

  “Sure.”

  We get seated and look at the menus for no reason.

  “Hey, see those two guys over there?” He looks in the direction of two guys in their late thirties sitting at a small table in the back. One of them is wearing a shirt with pink letters that read NAUGHTY BOY.

  I say, “Yeah.”

  “The one with the brown hair has the smallest dick I’ve ever sucked. So what in the hell have you been up to besides making me wait to eat lunch when I’m fucking starving?”

  “I had that date last night.”

  “Oh, right, that bitch you met in the video game store. And Casey doesn’t know a thing?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, how did it go? Did you at least get blown?”

  “I thought it went pretty well until the end. She invited herself back to my house—”

  “Wow, so you definitely got blown. You probably fucked her.”

  “I didn’t get blown or fuck her. She kissed me and then said she had a boyfriend and had to leave.”

  “That little bitch. But seriously, that doesn’t sound too bad. At least all she did was kiss you and at least all she had was a fucking boyfriend. I’ve been on my knees with cum dribbling out of my ass and down my chin and had some son of a bitch tell me he was married with kids. Try that one on for size.”

  “I just don’t get why she even went out with me in the first place.”

  “Who the fuck knows? Women can be complete cunts. At least with guys you know they always go out with you to fuck you, plain and simple. That’s why you went out with her, right?”

  “Yeah. For the most part.”

  “What other part is there?”


  “I don’t know. None, I guess.”

  “Listen. It’s better it ended up this way. I mean, Casey would’ve eventually found out about this thing if it had gone on for very long.”

  “I know.”

  “So count your blessings. You got to go on a date with a hot piece of ass and you still get to keep your girlfriend.”

  I almost wish I had answered the phone when Casey called the first time. I almost wish I had let her hear Alyna in the background. I wish I had the balls to call Casey right now and tell her I fucked some drunk bitch in the ass at her Groundlings party while posing as her teacher. I almost wish she wasn’t my girlfriend.

  The waiter comes to our table and we order the same things we always order and strike up the same conversations about the same things we always talk about for the rest of lunch. After an hour we leave.

  When I get home, I put in the Tori Amos CD that I bought from Alyna and jerk off.

  some chapter

  Hobo

  I’m walking out of Jerry’s Famous Deli in Westwood when a semi-insane-looking hobo says, “Could you spare some change, brother?”

  I have thirty-five cents in my pocket and I’m fully prepared to give it to him. I reach in my pocket, get the coins out, and begin the process of handing the money to the hobo when the following occurs.

  Somebody says, “Don’t do it.”

  I look over, and walking toward the hobo and myself is an Asian girl with fucking full-blown Down syndrome. She’s wearing glasses and her tongue’s kind of hanging out and she’s waving her arms around like a maniac as she keeps saying, “Don’t do it. Don’t do it.”

  I pull the money back from the hobo, waiting for things to develop.

  The retard says, “Mister, don’t give him any money.”

  I say, “Okay.”

  She points her retarded finger at the hobo and says, “What’s wrong with you? I make six dollars an hour. Why can’t you get a job?”

  The hobo is speechless. So am I. The retard’s not.

  She says, “You could get a job if you really wanted to, but you don’t. You’re lazy and I hate lazy people. You should not ask people for money that they’ve worked for. I would never give you money. I make six dollars an hour. I have a job. Why should I give you my money?”

  I can’t tell if the hobo is genuinely moved by the retard’s rhetoric or by the poetic justice of this whole thing or what, but he stands up, says, “Shut your trap, I’m leaving,” and takes off down the street. All the while the retard keeps yelling after him, “Get a job! I have a job!”

  Once he’s finally out of earshot the retard turns to me and says, “You should never give them your money. They are lazy. I hate them.” Then she turns around and trudges off down the street. I hope she’s on her way to deliver some more motivational speeches to hobos.

  When I get home I wonder what retards are like when they fuck—if they’re crazy, or if they go limp. I wonder if they’re any good at sucking dick and I decide I would fuck a retard if given the opportunity so I could answer these questions.

  chapter sixteen

  Casey’s Homecoming

  I’m at the airport to pick up Casey. As I’m waiting by the baggage claim I see a guy in a brown jacket holding some flowers that he probably bought at the airport for his girlfriend. I know Casey would like me to be waiting for her with flowers. I see the little guy selling the flowers. I also see an average-looking bitch standing across from me. We exchange a glance. Casey’s plane lands in ten minutes. I wonder if the average-looking bitch would accept a no-strings-attached offer to fuck in the bathroom. I wonder who she’s here to pick up. Probably her boyfriend, who probably bought flowers for her at whatever airport he’s coming from. Casey’s been gone for two days, in which time I haven’t fucked. I decide to buy her flowers.

  Fifteen minutes later Casey wanders out into the baggage claim area like a lost little kid along with all the other people who were on her flight. The guy in the brown jacket gives his flowers to a girl who doesn’t look that much different from the average-looking bitch. She kisses him. The average-looking bitch gets flowers from a guy who doesn’t look that much different from the guy in the brown jacket. She kisses him. I give my flowers to Casey. She hugs me and kisses me and says, “Oh, thank you. You’re so sweet.”

  As she’s hugging me I feel her tits through her shirt. I whisper in her ear, “Let’s get your bags and go straight to your house and fuck.”

  She says, “I can’t believe we’re engaged. Can you?”

  I don’t know if I had convinced myself that it was all a bad dream or if I had forced the memory of three nights ago so far down that I couldn’t remember it, but we’re engaged. Casey thinks we’re engaged and she told her parents that we’re engaged and now I’m giving her flowers in an airport. We’re fucking engaged.

  She says, “When I told my mom she started crying.”

  I can’t say anything. I let go of her and start walking over to the baggage carousel. She follows me, still talking.

  “My dad was like, ‘Well, I guess we can expect another grandchild pretty soon.’”

  I look around the baggage claim, kind of frantic. I need to find something that makes me think I shouldn’t run out and throw myself in front of the first Super Shuttle I see. I see a semi-hot bitch with a great ass and a pretty good cocksucking mouth. I tell myself that I may have a very slim chance of ever fucking a girl like that, but if I’m dead I’ll have no chance. I keep walking toward the baggage carousel. Casey keeps talking.

  “At first I thought my dad was nuts, but I guess he’s kind of right, you know? I mean, after you get married, it’s like kids usually come pretty soon after. Do you want to have a boy or a girl first?”

  I can feel the cold sweat dripping down the middle of my back into my ass crack. I wonder if Casey stopped taking the pill after the conversation with her dad. Maybe I should insist that we start using rubbers. Maybe I should only let her suck my dick. Casey keeps talking.

  The first few bags come out of the baggage chute. They hit the carousel and start their crawl around it. The bitch who saved me from committing suicide comes over and stands right next to me. I stare at her ass. Casey keeps talking.

  “You know, I think we should move in together before we get married. Maybe we could get a little dog, too. I don’t know, though. The cats might not like having a dog. I guess the dog could be a strictly outside dog if we could get a place with a yard—somewhere in the Valley.” I fucking despise the Valley.

  As I’m staring at this girl’s ass I notice she’s trying to get a bag that slid past her and is now right in front of me. I reach down and get it. She brushes my arm with her hand as I lift it off the carousel. She looks up at me and smiles. She says, “Thanks,” pops out the little handle, and shakes her ass out the door toward the waiting taxis. Casey keeps talking.

  The rest of what she says is inaudible to me. Whatever she says becomes a high-pitched ringing in my ears. I grab her bag when I see it and we leave.

  That night she says she loves me a few dozen times, she coaxes me into taking a bubble bath with her, she wears some lingerie she hasn’t worn since Valentine’s Day when I bought it for her, she snuggles up next to me, we don’t fuck, and I fall asleep wondering if our daughters would be cursed with Casey’s fat ass.

  chapter seventeen

  Chance Encounter

  Casey and I have been engaged for a few weeks now. I haven’t told any of my friends or family members. Casey has told all of hers multiple times. I’m listening to one of them congratulate Casey in the food court of the Beverly Center.

  Her friend says, “Oh, I’m so happy for you guys.”

  Casey says, “Thanks. We’re really excited. We’re thinking about getting a place together.”

  Her friend says, “Oh my god, that is so fun. When Ronny and I got our place it was like the best day of my life, except for the wedding, of course.” Then she pukes out a laugh.

  Casey says, “Ye
ah. I can’t wait.”

  Her friend says, “When’s the big date?”

  Casey says, “We really haven’t picked one out yet. Probably sometime in the summer.”

  Her friend says, “You still have my address and everything to send an invite, right?”

  Casey says, “Of course.”

  Her friend says, “Great,” then she fake-whispers this next bit to Casey: “And don’t forget to let me know about the bachelorette party.”

  Casey fake-whispers back, “I won’t.”

  They hug and Casey says, “And don’t be a stranger, let’s get lunch sometime.”

  Her friend says, “Okay, I’ll give you a call. You kids behave.” Then she heads toward the escalators.

  Casey says, “Have we ever come to the Beverly Center and not run into someone we know? Seriously, it’s like everyone in town comes here on the weekends.”

  I start walking toward the Orange Julius/Dairy Queen without hearing what she just said. I remember in seventh grade home-ec class, Mrs. Baker taught us how to make Orange Julius with vanilla extract, orange juice, sugar, and ice. Mrs. Baker wasn’t particularly attractive but I would have fucked her.

  I buy a chocolate-dipped cone and Casey gets a small Julius. As we leave the counter I literally bump into Alyna, who is walking by with her arm around some asshole. A conversation is unavoidable and I’m sure it’s going to lead to the discovery of our date by both of our significant others. But I’m more worried about Alyna finding out I have a girlfriend.

  Alyna says, “Oh, hey. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, you?”

  “Pretty good.”

  “This is my boyfriend, Duane.”

  I fucking shake his hand. Casey gets tired of not being introduced and says, “I’m his fiancée, Casey. Nice to meet you guys.”

  Alyna shakes Casey’s hand and says, “Hi, I’m Alyna.” I can tell Alyna’s surprised. I feel worse than I should for never telling her about Casey. Even though I have no chance with her, for some reason I still don’t want her to be mad at me.