Uncomfortable
‘Nae and I wandered the aisles of BevMo, the candy store of alcoholics, pondering drinks to bring to the potluck New Years loft party in downtown LA. As we browsed the spirits section, I point to a small bottle of tequila that would look decidedly more at home in an adult boutique:
Asombroso Tequila
“Whoa, that’s totally a butt-plug!” I exclaim a little too loudly.
“Well, if you want it, I’ll get it for you, but after you drink it, I get to stick it up your butt.”
“Hmm … I might need a little more than 50ml of tequila to prep for that. But then you’d have a larger bottle, and I’m pretty sure that’d be even more uncomfortable. So, yeah, if you’re going to stick booze up my ass, let’s make it the little tequila. Or perhaps we should check out the bourbons.”
It’s about then that we notice an older man has been standing behind us throughout the exchange, and he proceeds to shuffle away a little too quickly, conspicuously avoiding any eye contact. We break out into insuppressible laughter, and I wonder if we’ve corrupted his concept of BevMo forever. If, every time he wanders in to pick up his bottle of gin or vodka or whiskey, he’ll think, “I wonder if anyone’s ever stuck this up an ass?”