I’m out with Darren when the subject takes a downwards turn. Downwards meaning butt sex, which I refuse to participate in. We discuss his do’s and my wont’s when we hear a cough. We look over at the guy next to me, who is shaking his head.
“Well?” I ask over the round of vodkas, “What do you think — and why are you laughing?”
“First of all, you are doing it wrong,” he says.
“Excuse me?” Darren half-laughs.
“It’s not butt sex. It’s anal sex. And it’s not like guys like me do it all the time. It’s the sort of sex we have with a girl on a Saturday night when we’re shit faced on drugs and in the mood to go wild.”
“Go wild in the butt?” I ask.
“Sure, ha, whatever. If I’m on enough drugs, then yeah.”
“I don’t know,” I say, and take a big gulp of my vodka. “My vagina could get shot off in the war and I’d still say no to putting a dick in my ass.”
“What about drugs? What about a lot of drugs.”
I think about this for a moment. “Fine. But you would have to rim my asshole in a lot of coke beforehand.”