Page 56 of Meet Stan

“What do you mean, what the fuck, Duck Dynasty?” I sneered. “Which one of those tricycles is yours out there? I really need to take a piss and I think I’ll do it on your seat. Also, your mom gives the best blow jobs in all of the Eastern Seaboard.”

The whole place went silent. The college kids threw money on the table and scampered away. The bartender—I shit you not—put a mouthpiece in and then secured a football helmet to his head.

The entire bar had an Old West kind of feel. You know, when two gunslingers face off in the middle of the street? That’s where I thought we were headed.

Then the biker scoffed. He turned to look at some of the other bikers in the corner.

“Do you believe this guy?” he said. “I mean, seriously.”

“Don’t you want to kick my ass?” I asked.

“Well, it’s obvious that you’re looking to get your ass beat. That automatically makes me not want to do it.” He shrugged. “So what’s going on, buddy? Why is a guy in a thousand-dollar suit and five hundred dollars shoes doing in a dive like this, trying to pick fights with strangers?”

My shoulders slumped.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m pretty pathetic. I was looking to punish myself for throwing away the best thing that ever happened to me and then shitting all over it.”

“Sounds like you fucked up big time. Here, let me buy you an overpriced can of piss warm beer and you can tell me all about it.”

I laughed. “It is pretty warm.”

We sat down at the bar and I went into my spiel.

“So, I hooked up with the woman at a party. And it was hot, like super, super hot, but it was obvious we were both just looking for a one-night stand type of deal. I didn't get her number, or even her last name.”

“You romantic, you,” he said between sips of sour beer.

“I know, right? It’s funny you say that. Because when I bumped into her the next day, I thought she would be the perfect accomplice to have a fake relationship with.”

“Why in the fuck would you want a fake relationship? Are you trying to stay in the country or something?”

“No, it’s not that. I wanted to show all my married friends that love is a lie, and nothing lasts forever. Instead, I fell in love with her. I fell in love with Ivy.”

I marveled at the words coming out of my mouth for their veracity. It was true. I was in love with Ivy.

“I love her, and I lost her.” I rested my head on the bar. “Fuck.”

“Hey, have you tried calling her?”

“I’ve called a lot, to the point where she blocked my number, I think.”

“Well, here,” he said, digging into his jacket pocket. “Why don’t you use my phone, then? She won’t recognize the number and given that she’s about to go on a trip she’ll probably answer just to see who it is.”

“I don’t know, man.” I sighed. “Can the leopard really change its spots? I’ve been chasing tail for so long, living from one pair of ripped panties to the next, that I’m not sure I can really settle down with anyone.”

“If that’s true, why were you trying to pick a fight in a dive bar at four o’clock in the goddamn morning?”

I had no good answer for that, and the biker sighed.

“Look my man… close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Just go for it.”

“Okay, sure, why not. Here, my eyes are closed.”

“All right, picture this—it’s ten years in the future, and you’re married to this woman you love, and you have kids and all of that shit. Can you picture it?”

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