I nod in agreement, not even really paying attention to Tyler since I’m currently staring at Charlotte across the bar. She’s so pretty and nice and pretty.

“I shouldn’t have had that last shot of Crown. I can’t feel my chalk,” Tyler mumbles.

I haven’t talked to Charlotte since Viagragate 2013 last week. She’s been busy job hunting, and I’ve been busy being mortified. I knew she’d be here at this bar tonight because we’ve been coming to Fosters every Saturday night for as long as I can remember. My mom used to bartend here back when I was little, and the same couple still own the bar. Mr. and Mrs. Foster are in their seventies. They always let us drink for free and constantly ask us if we want to play P.O.R.N. I have no idea why they always ask that, and frankly, I don’t want to know. Tyler swears that one of these times he’s going to take them up on their offer because he thinks they’ll take him into the backroom and show him their secret stash of old people  p**n .

All the alcohol I’ve consumed tonight hasn’t erased my fear that I don’t know how to please a woman. One sexual experience does not a master make. Ha! That rhymes with masturbate! Which I’m never doing again. What was I saying? Oh, yeah … I know how to power up a Jack Rabbit and make a woman come three times within a minute, in theory. But what if I actually get the chance to be with Charlotte and I suck balls?

Not that I would suck balls. There shouldn’t be any ball-sucking going on from my end of things.

Charlotte was already here at Fosters with a few of her girlfriends when we arrived an hour ago. I probably could have just gone over to her and pretended like she hadn’t seen my giant erection the last time we were together, but instead, I waved to her and proceeded to act aloof, taking a seat on the opposite side of the bar.

I don’t care if you saw me with a hard-on in public. It’s totally cool. Happens all the time. I am totally secure with my penis pop-ups.

“I think I’m going to make a new list,” I tell Tyler suddenly. “I’m going to use some of your ideas and some of Uncle Drew’s ideas and it’s totally going to work.”

I finish off my Jack and Coke and slam the empty glass on top of the bar.

“That’s a good idea, bro. You should totally drive the Honda to the Californias,” Tyler agrees.

“I just need to get rid of the disturbing things on Uncle Drew’s list. Did you know that goat testicles dipped in honey are an aphrodisiac? Or maybe it’s just honey …”

Tyler suddenly smacks me on the arm. “Dude. Charlotte is totally staring at you. Wow, she’s got a lot of facial hair.”

I look across the bar and see a guy waving at us a few stools down from Charlotte.

“That’s not Charlotte, you dick. That’s Brad Manginallo. We went to school with him.” I wave back at Brad and signal for him to come over and join us.

“Didn’t we used to call him Mangina?” Tyler asks.

“Yes. And he threatened to kick your ass, so you might not want to do that again.”

Brad comes over to us and I give him a pat on the back and pull out the stool on the other side of me.

“MANGINA!” Tyler yells in greeting.

“I see you haven’t changed at all, Ty,” Brad says with a laugh.

Brad was in a fraternity in college and a pretty cool guy, even if he was in the same frat as Rocco. For some reason, I was always told by my parents to stay far away from fraternities. It was actually one of their rules for letting me go away to college. No fraternities and no beer pong. Obviously, I obeyed the first rule. Not so much the second one.

“I hear you’re some big wig at a dildo plant or something,” Brad says with a laugh. “You always looked like the type of guy who liked to play with penises all day.”

I take that back. Brad is not a cool guy anymore.

“Yeah, he makes all those toys your mom uses on her huge vagina,” Tyler retorts. “MANGINA!”

Brad doesn’t look happy about Tyler’s repeated use of his nickname, and this makes me happy.

“Anyway, I’m working for my dad’s financial company. I’m pulling in about two-hundred K a year,” Brad tells us.

Was he this much of a douche in college?

“You’re so awesome, Mangina,” Tyler tells him with a smile.

“Don’t you still work at The Gap and live in your mom’s basement?” Brad asks him with another cocky laugh.

“Yeah, I still work at The Gap. But now I live in your mom’s basement and pay my rent with daily sperm deposits on her face. MANGINA!”

Brad is really getting pissed off now, but it’s obvious he’s trying to keep his cool so he doesn’t look like an ass**le for punching Tyler in the face. Normally, I’m all for letting someone beat the shit out of Tyler when he’s saying dicky things, but this is too entertaining to put a stop to.

“Either of you dicks know who that hot chick is on the other side of the bar? She’s totally checking me out,” Brad informs us.

I don’t even bother looking across the bar because I’m pretty sure he’s talking about Charlotte, and the idea that she would find him even remotely attractive is disgusting.

Eventually, I look over at her just to see if she’s really eyeing Brad, but she’s not. She’s staring right at me. She smiles at me and I watch as she says something to one of her friends and hops down off of her stool on unsteady feet. She wobbles a little bit and her friends cheer and scream her name as she walks away from them and over in our direction. I’m pretty sure I heard one of them scream, “Give it to him, Charlie!” but I’m too busy wondering if I’m sober enough to punch Brad in the face if he says anything inappropriate to her.