The Temporary Virginity of the American Player

3. Meet Joe.

"You're an idiot."

"I am not!"

"You can't do it, Nick," Joe said with a shake of his head, and pulled smoke from a Cuban cigar into his lungs. Our third roommate had dragged himself from the pits of his hangover, had finished his beer on the patio, and had been forcibly exposed to my situation as soon as I'd returned from the cafe.

"Can to!"

"Cannot!"

"Can to!"

"Bullshit," he said flatly, and I frowned. "And do you even have five hundred dollars?"

"Do any of us?"

"Good point."

"Look, I can do this. There's money and pride at stake. Wouldn't you?"

"Nick, you won't even be able to make it for a full day, nonetheless a full month. Call it off before you make an ass out of yourself. This is like last year when you thought you could outdrink that German barmaid at Oktoberfest."

"The odds were super stacked against me on that one, yet I came close if you remember," I said quickly. "I might make an ass out of myself, but if I do happen to pull this off, Johnny has to ask this cute waitress out at the café. He was totally ogling her; you should have seen the look on his face, it was disgusting! He hasn't gone out with a girl since Christy, and we all know how that ended up. This'll be great for him!"

"Well, was the waitress pretty," Joe asked, pulling on his boots and balancing his cigar between his lips. We sat outside on the balcony, each of us gripping a bottle of Jack Daniels and gazing out by the pool behind our apartment. Our favorite female neighbors, identical twins Regina and Josie Duitsman, were at it again with the daily pool volleyball game, bikini-style: red polka dots versus yellow flowers. I couldn't tell the two of them apart, but according to Joe, Regina had a banana-shaped birthmark on her right breast and Josie didn't. Both of us enjoyed watching the twins do anything but, as usual, Johnny had gone before the game even started, claiming he was going to the library to study up for an exam.

"Sure, she was cute."

"What'd she look like?"

"I don't know, like a smart person. Longish black hair that's sort of wavy. Green-gray eyes...not really tall but not too short either. Thin. Great ass. Doesn't smile."

"What was she wearing?"

"An apron."

Joe snorted and took a drag from his cigar, blowing smoke from his nostrils like an angry bull. I held mine, watching the gray smoke waft up into the air and be taken by a gust of wind. I'd never been much for cigars, but recently Joe had developed a taste in Cubans and I didn't mind them. Joe smoked just about anything he could light, but his taste was getting more expensive and I could appreciate a free Cuban when one was offered.

"Well, I'm about one hundred and fifty-nine point three percent sure you're going to fail this little bet of yours, but if you do happen to succeed, you're buying me a beer with your five hundred bucks. It might be a good exercise and all, becoming a born-again virgin. Not that you'll be very good at staying one for more than forty-eight hours, but it's the thought that counts."

"You guys seriously don't think I can do this, do you," I asked incredulously. "You know what, I can pull this off. I can pass up sex for a month. I can, don't laugh! Very easily, actually. You underestimate my powers, Joey."

"What's the longest time span you've gone without having sex?"

"Sixteen years."

"Your original virginity doesn't count, dumbass."