Dinner Catastrophe

Having dinner with an ex-boyfriend: disastrous. Having dinner with two ex-boyfriends, their new boyfriends and a newly single best friend: catastrophic. As the ex-boyfriends introduced the new boyfriends, the table talk turned from “What are you doing?” to “Who are you REALLY doing.”  From boyfriends to penis’s, our only break coming from the waitress, delivering our food to shut us up.

“My boyfriend and I haven’t had sex since…. Oh, I don’t know,” newly single said.

“Well sweetie… that’s why you broke up!” I said.

“What do you know? You haven’t had even had it….” The table got silent. I'm sure the risky table talk was silenced right then and there. It didn’t help that I was staring at the ex and his new BF, who played volleyball at the college level. Like I gave a crap.

“He didn’t know he was gay—"

“Well I knew, I just wanted to make sure.”

“Honey, the only balls you play with are your own. I mean, you shower with other men for gods sake,” newly single said. She still had quite an attitude at her asshole boyfriend, who left without a word. Well actually a text.

“Chels, have you talked to him?” I asked, stepping on soft ground.

“Of course not. Why should I? I worked my ass off in this relationship, and he did shit.”

“Maybe it was the sex,” ex-boyfriend one suggested.

As the table talk, one again, turned sexual, I wondered, “Is there really nothing else to say?” Why is it that we always turn to talking about sex or relationships? Is it because everything else is too boring? That maybe talking about sex will make us stronger friends?

“What do you do with it? Like it just hangs there, like do flick it or something?” new boyfriend asked the table.

“No, we dress it up. Call it cinderdick.” Newly single said. You have to hand it to her, when she’s pissed she’s funny. When she’s funny she’s blatantly sexual.

But, like every good thing, the conversation expired. We ran out of things to say, to make fun of and our plates were wiped clean. As we left the restaurant, an ex-boyfriend said something, which elicited a last laugh, “I’m thinking about getting a tattoo of a compass on my left shoulder.”

“GAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.”