On A Limb with Claudia

We were almost done with dinner when D. gets up to go to the bathroom. Rocker Boy and I continue chatting and laughing.

“You’ve got to check this out,” Rocker Boy says.

I nodded.

He unzips his pants.

Now really, what is a girl to do? Her husband is in the restroom. Her dear friend is taking this opportunity to unzip his pants in a public place. Should I cover my eyes? Should I scream?

What would you do?
He shows me his new pink underwear with white piping.

“Niiccee,” I say. I nod and raise an eyebrow.
He beams, zips his pants and sits down. A few moments later D. comes out of the bathroom. We finish eating, pay the bill, hugs and kisses and go home.

That’s what happened. I swear.

Later, D. opens the door to our home and follows me in.

“What did Rocker Boy show you while I was in the bathroom?” he asks.

“What?” I ask. At that moment, I didn’t actually remember the pink underwear. I know it’s hard to believe but it just didn’t stay front and center for me.

“I could hear you say, “Niiiccee” from the bathroom and when I came around the corner Rocker Boy was zipping his pants,” D. says. “I figure that as long as you weren’t reaching over, it was probably all good.”

I look at D. My mind floods with questions: what would he have done if I was reaching across the table? What is he really implying? Why did Rocker Boy choose that moment to show me the underwear?

I tell him about the pink underwear. I tell him this convoluted story about Rocker Boy seeing Green underwear on a singer in a band at the South Park Music Festival. Then it was months before the singer was sober enough to tell Rocker Boy about the underwear. That’s why he has it now.

“You remember D, we were actually there,” I say.

“Green underwear?” he asks.

“Ya, remember?” I ask. “The singer was completely trashed and started stripping on stage?”

D. shakes his head. “Sorry,” he says. “I think I was talking to Rocker Girl when all that happened.”

I nod. He shrugs.

And I wonder… Rocker Boy shows me his pink underwear. I watch a drunk musician strip to his green underwear. And D. is talking to Rocker Girl.

There’s probably some existential meaning there. I never found it.

I shrugged and went to bed.

Filed under: Da Boys