âThen letâs not waste any of Jimâs time! Coleman, chair!â
Coleman kicked one out for Jim to take a seat at the table.
âI canât sit, Serge! I have to go.â
âLook out for the train,â said Serge.
âWhat train?â
A little locomotive whistle blew, and a model train came around the bend from the kitchen, toward Jimâs feet. He hopped back out of the way and fell into the chair.
âThatâs better,â said Serge.
The train circled the table and disappeared into one of the bedrooms. City passed the joint to Jim, who waved her off without words. Country took a swig of whiskey from the bottle and grabbed the roach.
Jim started getting up. Country pushed him back down and handed him the bottleââEase out. Your stress is a buzz killââheaded for the kitchen and more ice.
Jim tried passing the bottle toward Serge, who pulled back his hands. âYouâre on your own with these women. Iâm sure your techniques are rock solid, but these are the chicks Iâll be dealing with, so I need to see if your interaction with them passes the acid test.â
Jim turned and handed the bottle toward Coleman.
âMy hands are busy.â Coleman broke down the walls of the gingerbread house.
Country came back with clean glasses and ice. âJim, hereâs yours.â
âBut I rarely drink.â He turned toward Serge.
âDonât look at me. Acid test.â
Jim looked back up at Country and held a thumb and index finger a quarter inch apart. âOkay, but just a little.â
She poured four fingers and splashed a fifth on the table, then jammed the rocks glass in Jimâs stomach and wandered away, upending the bottle.
âFeet,â said Serge.
Jim looked down and swiftly raised them. The Orange Blossom Special rolled under his chair and chugged out of sight into the bathroom.
âSo, Jim,â said Serge. âWhatâs your first tip to someone starting a family? Begin with the biggest thing!â
âActually the biggest thing is the smallest thing.â
âJim,â said Serge. âYouâre talking Zen warrior shaman shit. Is the Eastern jazz what itâs all about?â
âNo, I mean that the little things are what make your wife happy and your marriage solid, because after a while it isnât fairy-tale royalsâ weddings; itâs commitment to each otherâs small considerations during the marathon of raising children.â
âExample?â said Serge.
âNot tracking stuff into the house.â
Sergeâs head jerked back. âYouâre blowinâ smoke up my ass. Thatâs number one?â
âNot the least speck of dirt. They spend so much time vacuuming and mopping.â Jim raised the glass to his mouth for a sip. More like sticking in the tip of his tongue for a taste. He made a face. âIt shows you appreciate her efforts.â
City took a big hitââHeâs on the moneyââthen blew Country a sensuous shotgun that gave all the guys boners.
Country exhaled. âDonât wipe your shoes, no pussy.â
âJim,â said Serge. âYouâre in the zone! Dr. Phil canât carry your jockstrap. What else?â
Jim raised the glass for another tongue test. Verdict: not bad. He took a moderate sip. Then another. Then he finished the drink. A look on his face. He began coughing and slapping his chest.
âYou all right?â asked Serge. âGo down the wrong way?â
âNo, just burns.â His eyes bugged and watered.
âWhiskey does that,â said Serge.
Jim looked at his watch. âWhat time is it? I need to be getting back.â
âI donât think thatâs a good idea right now,â said Serge. âJust sit still a moment and gather yourself.â He offered a tissue. âYou got a little spit coming off . . .â
Quiet around the table except for an
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