My good friend Shannon and his lovely wife celebrated eight years together.
We had a drink at a Myrtle Street bar.
“I have to ask you. Sex must be boring, so why don’t we have a menage a trois?”
“I’m game,” Charlotta replied without hesitation. “Tonight?”
“Errr.” I was in no condition for sex, especially with a good friend. “Maybe another night.”
“Loser.” Shannon was absolutely correct and I watched them leave for a romantic dinner, while I held hands with a glass of beer.
It tasted good.