Mycroft's was packed for its usual Friday happy hour. Although it used the famous Brit supersleuth as a marketing gambit, it was as Irish as Paddy's proverbial pig.
It was "boy's night out" for the four men in the booth next to the bar. Although the establishment did not take anything resembling a reservation, the regulars knew that this was "their" booth on Friday evenings. They paid their dues with their outrageous humor and general horsing around. Management felt that it was as good a draw as any standup and didn't strain the payroll.
Jimmy was currently bringing tears to the eyes of the patrons in his immediate vicinity. To all, that is, but one unfortunate college kid who was doing a mediocre job of looking good-natured about it. The humor in question was built around his not-so-subtle strike out with a young woman who, until her very recent and dramatic exit, had been sitting on the stool adjacent to the chagrined romeo. The whole thing started with a one-liner.
"Looks like you slept through Pickup 101, or at least the chapter: 'How to Avoid Sounding Lame at a Glance.' He put his arm around the kid's shoulder to take the sting out of the words and continued: "It's OK, we've all been there at one time or another. Don't feel bad, more experienced guy's than you have tried and struck out too. Happens so regularly with her, it's how we know it's Friday."
After that Jimmy joined his buddies to finish the pitcher. The institution of "boys nite out" had begun as a casual thing about a year ago. The crew was made up of four guys who happened to show up on Friday's in between work and returning home to their families. Jimmy managed the local Home Depot, Tony did framing for a prefab outfit, Larry was the local grease monkey. Billy was in real-estate and the proud owner of "The Sportsman's Rest", a bait and tackle shop down by the river. All four had grown up in the area and had been busting on one another since kindergarten.
As the tradition developed, the time of their arrival at home got later until now they weren't expected until after midnight. They always came home sober and relaxed for the weekend so there was approval all around.
What might not have met with such universal approval was what they kept among themselves regarding other the traditions of the evening. It began when Billy offered one of his vacant furnished properties as a party place after happy hour one Friday. The guys chipped in for a case, got delivery pizza and kicked back in front of the tube whose cable was still connected.
This particular evening the guys had not cut themselves off at a few beers but got into reliving their school days. It was Tony who asked if they could use the pool that came with the house. The well lubricated crew of buddies had already reassembled poolside when they first realized the lack of bathing attire.
"What the hell, we're in the boonies and it's not something we all haven't seen before" said Jimmy as he stripped and dove in.
The others were just tipsy enough to say 'fuck-it', and follow suit.
Their horseplay turned physical in the water. Things got so rough that Bill thought he was going to need to top off the pool when they finished. Somewhere along the line, the realization hit that they were standing there in the nude all sporting wood. That was when things got very quiet.
Larry attempted to break the silence with humor.
"Shit, we haven't had a good circle jerk since 7th grade."
That broke the tension as four very physically active beefy guys admitted their horniness.
"Fuck, man, my right hand is still my best buddy. Judy hasn't cared about that shit since before the kids were born" Jimmy admitted.
The nods and hungry eyes told the story of similar circumstances in the other three households. Tony took the plunge.
"So are we buddies or what? We look out for each other every other way. Why not here too?"
Billy seconded the motion. "I mean where else can a guy trust his dick if not to a buddy?"
"Yeah", Tony added "I mean, it's not like we're gonna get married. We made that mistake once already."
There were laughs all around.
"Nope" said Larry "we're just a bunch of hot buds letting off steam ...."
"Yours ain't that hot, bragger!" Billy grabbed at Larry's bobbing 8"
"Up yours" Larry shot back, and then "Shit man, don't stop now, that's the best feel I've gotten all year."
"Well, damn it all, buddy - you could at least demonstrate your gratitude"
The ice was broken and they all dove in with the same rowdy, bawdy humor that characterized everything they did together.
After that the number of choices on the menu for "boys night out" expanded. Billy usually managed to arrange for an "after hours" property. Getting your rocks off was not the sole purpose or the only event of interest for the evening. Camaraderie and horseplay still held center stage. It wasn't an orgy thing, it was a guy thing. There were only 2 rules. The first was that, once in the house, undershorts and T were proper attire. The second was anything poking out of a pair of shorts was up for grabs.
Hope ya liked it. Any comments gratefully received at bearwolf_7@hotmail.com