Carson Montgomery stood proudly at the bar of his man cave and filled two large mugs with ice cold beer from his recently-installed kegerator. He handed one to his neighbor Carlos and raised the other in a toast. “Welcome to the Montgomery man cave.”
“¡Salud!” said Carlos as they clinked glasses before drinking. It was a fine pour and Carson conveyed his satisfaction by licking his lips and exclaiming, “Ahh, that’s a good head.”
“Speaking of good head,” began Carlos, “I took the vieja to dinner last night and then afterwards, we had marathon sex.”
“Oh,” said Carson, caught off guard. “Good for you guys.”
“It was like ten minutes long. Oofa! So, at one point, she was on top of me and she was grinding away and–”
“–Wait a minute, Carlos.”
“What?”
“I hate to interrupt, but you don’t need to share all the gory details with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean this isn’t high school. We’re in our thirties, and that’s your wife you’re talking about.”
“But this is a man cave. Anything goes, no?”
“No, anything goes in a dive bar, or a locker room, or a fraternity house, but this a man cave, so let’s limit the discussion to sports talk.”
“Sports talk?”
“Exactly. Like baseball stats.”
“I don’t wanna talk about RBIs and ERAs,” insisted Carlos, “I wanna talk about DSLs.”
“Dominican Summer Leagues?”
“Dick-sucking lips.”
“See right there?” winced Carson, “I’m not looking for that.”
“Just let me tell you this one part, fool.”
“No, seriously. I don’t want to hear anymore.”
“Let me just tell you this one thing that Lupe did with her tongue.”
“I’m not interested. Guadalupe is a friend of mine, and more importantly, she’s your wife, and the mother of your daughter.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” huffed Carlos, placing his beer on the bar. “Why do you have to bring Leticia into this?”
“What? No.” Carson put up a calming hand. “You see what this leads to? Let’s just drop it.”
“If you ever mention my daughter in this filthy place again, our friendship is over. You understand?”
“It’s not filthy, Carlos. It’s a man cave. You see the sports memorabilia everywhere? The pool table? The dart board? It’s pleasant in here.”
“Uh huh. Just so we’re clear, puto.”
“Of course. We’re clear as a bell. Let’s just watch some hoops, okay?” Carson grabbed the TV remote. “We’ll sit down and we’ll talk about sports like a couple of cavers, all right?”
“Awright.”
They took a seat on a large couch made of dead cows and when Carson activated his TV, the 75-inch screen came to life with an outburst of sound, vivid color and high definition clarity. A professional basketball game was in progress but there was a break in the action, and during the timeout, a squad of cheerleaders performed a sexy dance routine at midcourt.
“¡Hijole!” yelled Carlos. “Look at the globos on that mamasota! I would suck those dry until they shriveled up and hung from her chest like one giant ball sack!”
“Dude,” objected Carson.
“I’m talking about the sports!”
“You’re talking about sex.”
“No, I was talking about foreplay.”
“See, man?”
Carlos chortled, “See man.”
“What?”
“Sounds like semen.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Okay, maybe a little but you have to ratchet down the testosterone level.”
“This is a pinche man cave!”
“Yes, but we’re not cavemen. We’re civilized human beings.”
The basketball game continued and the announcers resumed their commentary: “Weiner needs to drive it to the hole if he wants to score,” advised the color analyst. “He drained a couple of deep balls from the outside but he needs to keep penetrating and pounding that rim on the inside if he wants to drop his load of buckets.”
“You see?” said Carson, “sports talk.”
“Fine, you want sports? Okay. One time, after Monday Night Football I went to this heina’s house for a little overtime. I’m trying to get into the mood but my mind is still on the game … and she’s a mamacita, too. She had an awesome fullback in her backfield and her boob job was the epitome of a perfectly-executed two point conversion.”
“Oh, brother.”
“We kicked off the game with good field position on the couch, and just as I started making passes and running a little play action on her tight end, her roommate showed up and started blocking and creating pass interference. Delay of game. We move to her bedroom for an instant replay and she gave me the stiff arm. Time out. She asked Do you have any protection? and I told her I always have good protection. Man coverage. Strong safety. She said You’re still thinking about football aren’t you? and I’m like No way. I got my head in the game. She smiled and said Football is a game of inches, but size doesn’t matter. I don’t need ‘eight in the box’ or a deep threat to score. I’m not a wide receiver. If you play the field with a small field goal unit, and you know how to split the uprights, you’ll score a victory with me every time. I thought Damn, this girl is filthy. I should have known when she told me that she liked the Rams and the Packers. Suddenly I was a man in motion. I put on the strong safety and after a pump fake and some blown coverage, we reached midfield. I ran the wishbone up the middle but I couldn’t find the hole. False start. I go for it with six inches to go and I finally hit the seam. Gap penetration. First down! I start driving the ball into scoring position. I pound it up the gut, diving and plunging it deeper into the red zone. Half the distance to the goal, I don’t like the formation so I call an audible. Turnover. I get behind center for the end around and create motion in the backfield. The two minute warning approaches and I switch to a hurry-up offense. Two minute drill. Poor clock management, so I switched to a hurry up offense. The two minute drill began and she started to show blitz and excessive celebration. It looked like a fake but I don’t know. I can never tell a trick play when I see one. After the two minute drill, the safety came off to flush me out of the pocket. An explosive sack was imminent so we lined up in the shotgun formation. My intended receiver was wide open when I cocked back to deliver but I fumbled the hand-off at the snap and I almost went offside. I scrambled and ended up tossing a Hail Mary. The ball started over her head, almost out of bounds, but she reacted and somehow caught my deflated ball right on her face mask! Completion! Touchdown! There was there a holding call afterward, but it was declined.”
“I think I’m going to convert this back into a workshop.”
“Speaking of workshops, have you been to Home Depot lately? What a perverted place. Is that a hardware store or a hardcore sex club?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Here are a few things I overheard the other day: I need a stud. Can you show me your wood? Where can I find male-to-male nipples? Got any clamps? My hose keeps dripping. Always lube your O-ring before pumping. Do you have a good hole-filler? I have a crack that keeps spreading. I’m looking for a cheap pair of strippers. If you wanna deliver a good blow, I would recommend the ball-peen with the red head. Where’s all the black caulk? My wife has this enormous bush that needs trimming. I’ve been laying cable all morning. I dropped a huge load on this hoe that got all bent out of shape. Do I get a new one or do I keep banging the old one until it straightens out?”
“I think you might have a problem, Carlos.”
“Me? They’re the ones with the problem. Tool, screw, nail, grinder, hammer, drill, nuts, plugs, pipes, shafts, and sockets? And roof flashing? What kind of twisted shit are people into? That’s when I grabbed my rubber gloves, my duct tape, my rope, and my blood remover and I broke the fuck outta that crazy place.”
“I think maybe I’ll move instead.”