Just Another Friday Night

Pic Coming Soon

Author's Notes: I wanted to take a stab at present tense POV. I hope I succeeded.

Justin’s cute when he’s drunk. He’s just a flushed-face, snickering bundle of joy. I say all this in jest of course – I’m the one who has to hold back his bangs while he’s hurling.

So he’s in the middle of telling me this dumb joke that’s taking longer and longer to get to the punch line, and I tune him out. He’s laughing so hard between each line he’ll never finish it. I notice Brian come in, and can’t decide whether I should alert ‘Giggles’ over here or just ignore him.

Brian’s eyeballing some hunky gym rat, and I want to smack him. I’ll never understand these two. They’re so hot together; why do they need others?  But if my boyfriend turned into a sloppy, drunken, laughing mess at the club, I wouldn’t want to hang out with him either.

“And the rat said, ‘How did I get Cheez Whiz on my ass?’”

Justin practically kills himself laughing. “Okay, Laughing Boy, I think it’s your bedtime,” I say as I drag him from the bar. He’s looking around, probably looking for Brian; I don’t have the heart to tell him the old boy’s in the backroom. Of course knowing how these two operate, Justin probably wouldn’t care.

All the way home I have to listen to Justin stumbling through more cornball jokes and cracking himself up. I feel like we’re back in high school, hanging out at my house and stealing Dad’s best scotch. But Dad’s stuff was better than the bong water he’s high on now. It’s good to know even the cheap stuff creates the same Justin.

I have to practically drag him up the stairs when we get home. As soon as we’re inside he heads straight for the toilet. It’s like clockwork: Brian and Justin have a fight; Justin drags me to Woody’s or Babylon to drown his sorrows; Brian shows up, ignores him and finds a trick; and Justin gets hammered. It’s just a typical Friday night with the Drama Duo.

Oh, I forgot the best part – when Justin comes out of the bathroom miserable and feeling sorry for himself, hoping I’ll give him some sympathy. I basically give him some tough love, a bottle of water and two Advil, and go to bed. The next morning Brian will show up at the door with that puppy-dog look on his face, Justin will melt and they’ll go to the loft for make-up sex.

It’s never a dull moment, and sometimes I wish they were just another boring couple on Liberty Avenue. But I wouldn’t have them any other way.

Return to Mothafunkybat