“You remember the time we met for drinks, back when I was still dating Vicky?  We went to O’Neil’s, sat in the booth by the door and watched people playing pool all night.  I drank Guinness, you had a martini.”

“So, oh-five, oh-six, then?  I think so.  You called me when you got out of class and I was just finishing my shift.”

“That’s the night I mean.  I didn’t want to go back to an empty apartment.”

“Where was Miss Victoria that night, anyway?”

“Vegas for her best friend’s twenty-fifth birthday.”

“And out of every name in your cell phone you called the one person your girlfriend wouldn’t let you hang out with?  You’re such a naughty boy.”

“No I’m not.  Nothing happened.”

“You wanted it to, though.”

“Doesn’t matter what I wanted.  I’m one-hunred percent faithful.  Or I was, anyway.”

“You’d better still be, mister, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Well, to a different woman.”

“Damn right.”

“You looked really sexy that night.”

“You’d better believe I did.  Nothing but the best for you.”

“And you say I’m the naughty one.”

“You are!  You could have called Derek, Rodney, or any of the guys.  You called me.  You’re definitely the naughty one.”

“Yeah well, by the time we left the bar you were all over me.”

“Oh yeah.  It was kind of a bummer to find out you could resist my charms.”

“Sorry.  If it’s any consolation, it took everything I had.”

“Doesn’t matter.  You’re powerless to resist me now.”

“I sure am.  But that night I thought I was going to lose my mind.  Remember you were singing that Pussycat Dolls song after your fourth martini.”

“That’s right!  I used to love that song!  I haven’t heard it in years.”

“You were so drunk.  Sloppy drunk.”

“And instead of kissing me all you kept saying was how it was a rip-off of…somebody.”

“Sir Mix-a-Lot.  And it’s pretty much the same song.  Same hook, similar lyrics.”

“And then I started singing – “

“Baby Got Back!  That’s right!”

“I was shaking my ass right in your face.  I wanted to give you a lapdance but I couldn’t find your lap.”

“I had to practically carry you out of there.  I kept worrying that you were going to throw up in my car.”

“I didn’t!”

“Can you imagine me trying to explain to Vicky why my car smells like puke?”

“She would have kicked your ass.”

“I could’ve said it was one of the guys but she wouldn’t have believed me.”

“Imagine what she would have done if she came home early and found me sleeping on the couch.”

“Whatever she would’ve done, it wouldn’t have been half as bad as it would’ve been if she found you in our bed.”

“Whether or not you were in it!”

“She would’ve kicked both of our asses.”

“She wasn’t any fun.  Not like me, anyway.”

“Not nearly as hot, either.”

“I’ll second that, lover.”

“So you remember that night, right?”

“Uh, hello!  I told you I remember it.”

“Remember the skirt you were wearing?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Short, black leather, came down to just above your knees?”

“Yeah, I know the one.  What about it?”

“You still have it?  I want to see you in it sometime.”