333 Miles by Craig Birk Read Free Book Online Page B

“No. Just was he in the dream?”
    Alex: “Oh. No. Zack was in it briefly, but he
didn’t have any meaningful role.”
    Gary: “So what were you doing as A. C.
Slater?”
    Alex: “I had made this chair and attached a
bunch of helium balloons to the bottom it. I was bouncing up and
down on the chair and was going higher every time. I was next to a
large swimming pool so my objective was to go about ten meters high
and then jump off the chair into the pool. But somehow I didn’t
jump in time and the chair kept going higher and higher and I
couldn’t get off and couldn’t get the chair to go back down. Mr.
Belding was screaming at me to just jump already, but I was
paralyzed. Then I woke up.”
    Gary: “Yeah, I used to have one like that too
sometimes, only without the Saved by the Bell part.”
    The BMW followed its lane in a sweeping curve
to the right, revealing the valley holding the city of Corona. A
thick blanket of smog had floated in from greater Los Angeles and
created a ceiling above the town. Alex had no more desire to
analyze his dreams and switched topics.
    Alex: “So you’ve been married like three
years, right?”
    Gary: “Five.”
    Alex: “No shit. Time flies. Five years? Wow,
it seems like your wedding was just yesterday. So, like, how often
do you boff after five years of marriage?”
    Gary: “You are asking how often do Blair and
I have sex?”
    Alex: “Yep.”
    Gary: “Well, before Sarah was born it was
about twice a week, but now I would say more like once a week.
Usually it is once a week. Sometimes once a week anyways. I think.
Maybe, anyway. I don’t know. Actually, I don’t even remember what
is normal before being married. What about your latest chick?”
    Alex: “The one from Dallas?”
    Gary: “Yeah, what is her name?”
    Alex: “Courtney. Well, it’s hard to say
because when we are together it’s like minimum three times a day,
but I tend to only see her like once every few weeks. Angela was
the last real girlfriend I had who lived in San Diego. With her it
was a solid once a day program, but we didn’t see each other every
day either. But, I think, you know, after five years of marriage,
once a week sounds like you’re doing pretty well.”
    Mike: “Once a week sounds great to me.”
    Gary: “Dry spell?”
    Mike: “Mojave desert.”
    Alex: “Are you on official hiatus clock?”
    Mike: “Yeah, a few months deep.”
    Gary: “What is the hiatus clock?”
    Alex: “Dude, you have been married too long.
Any time you hit three months from last intercourse, you are
officially on a hiatus. It can be quite scary.”
    Mike: “Tell me about it. The thing is, once I
get on hiatus I notice I start doing shit I wouldn’t otherwise do.
It’s like, if I had sex the night before, and then I meet Anna
Kournikova at the beach, I would want to determine if she has a
good personality before I am willing to even hang out with her. But
after a few months on the hiatus clock I find myself at Rodge’s bar
trying to ramp up some fat bitch who works at a Mervyn’s.”
    Gary: “Maybe she could get you a discount on
a Maytag for the new pad.”
    Alex: “Or some candlesticks for the dining
room. You should just get over yourself and join Match. A bunch of
my buddies at work do it and they say it makes getting laid like
shooting fish in a barrel.”
    Mike: “Maybe you are right. I just feel so
stupid doing it for some reason. It seems so desperate, but maybe I
am desperate so it doesn’t matter. Anyway, it is starting to make
sense. Going out just doesn’t seem worth the hassle anymore,
especially at this age. You want to hook up, so you go out, but
lately I just feel old.”
    Alex: “Dude, we are not that old.”
    Mike: “Lately I feel pretty geriatric when we
go out. I mean, I don’t want to be that guy.”
    Alex: “We are not that old.”
    Mike: “We aren’t young.”
    Alex: “Fair, but we are not that old
either.”
    Mike: “It’s like, you know, when you go to
Vegas and see