When we go out, I’m a stunt double,
Or a bouncer, or a villain, or a thug;
But only on the silver screen.
My buddy here, he’s an underwear model.
Yes, really. It’s no big deal. Not like,
Calvin Klein, or anything.
He doesn’t have the height for it.
But you know those Fruit of the Loom ads,
The ones where you only see the guy
From navel to thigh,
And it’s very focused on boxers or briefs,
And the bulge in the crotch
Staring at you subliminally
Behind that thin layer of cotton?
Yeah, that’s totally him.
So, basically, you’ve already seen him
In his underwear. I think it’s only fair
If he gets to see you in yours.
This is a great icebreaker, believe it or not.
Girls at bars think it’s funny,
Because they don’t know for sure if it’s true,
So they stick around for at least a few beers
To shoot the shit and see if we’re full of it,
Or if we’re just being funny, at the very least,
Because funny is always a good thing, too.
Sometimes, this game will go over perfectly,
And my buddy will go home with a girl,
And I’ll drive myself back to his place,
Where I fall asleep on an air mattress
On the floor of an empty guest bedroom.
It’s cool, because I’ve already got a lady
Back home, waiting on me,
So I’m not trying to score.
But once I get back home,
And have a minute to think,
I like to lay in bed and revise our résumés
To prepare for the next night.
Maybe tomorrow night,
I’ll be a brilliant writer, and my buddy
Can do the talking, and I’ll just smile and nod.
He’ll be Edward Norton’s stunt double,
And I’ll be a New York Times Best Seller,
And at the end of the night,
When the girl is trying to get me to go home,
I’ll just smile and say,
“Maybe some other time.”
Because I know I’ve got the air mattress
And a picture of my beautiful love
Waiting for me in the guest bedroom
That suddenly doesn’t feel so empty.
Posted in: Poetry