“So I have this problem,” Ernie began over his fourth beer, “I think it might be serious, like I might be dying.” Ernie turned to his friends Dave and Ljilja for signs of concern.
“What’s wrong?” Ljilja asked, resting her hand palm down on the bar near Ernie. The three were at their regular corner place having a few drinks after work. They didn’t do this so much anymore. The place was still their “regular place” but they weren’t so much regulars these days. Not since Dave and Ljilja had gotten married.
“I think I might have diabetes, or it could be stress, I don’t know.”
“You have diabetes?” Ljilja asked, giving Dave a concerned sideways glance.
“I don’t know. I might. I read that it could be diabetes.”
“What could be?” Dave questioned.
“Is there diabetes in your family?” Ljilja asked over him.
All three were huddled together now, beers tucked in close. Dave had one hand resting on Ljilja’s lower back, Ljilja had one resting on Ernie’s elbow.
“Yeah, what, exactly, is the problem?” she continued.
Ernie looked around and leaned in closer to his friends, “I can’t come,” he whispered.
“What?” Ljilja pulled back in surprise.
“You’re so full of shit,” Dave muttered, shaking his head and leaning back on the stool.
“No really,” Ernie exclaimed, nearly standing in his enthusiasm. Ljilja started laughing. “Lil, its not funny. This is bad, something’s wrong with me!”
“I’m sorry Ernie, but...” she started laughing harder and buried her face in Dave’s shoulder. Ljilja had a world class laugh. The kind that came full force from her belly and shook her whole body.
“but,” Dave continued, “its ridiculous.”
“Its not,” Ernie countered.
“Seriously, Ernie, what’s wrong?” Dave asked, taking a drink.
“That is what’s wrong. I can’t come. I mean not with someone else,” he whispered the last part.
“So you’re impotent?” Ljilja asked, recovering from her laughter.
“Hey, hey,” Ernie looked around, gesturing for her to be quieter. “No,” he whispered, ducking his head down toward the others. “I’m not impotent. I can get hard, an erection, you know, I just can’t...” he paused, “I just can’t finish.” Dave and Ljilja looked at him for a moment. “I guess I know what those women who can’t orgasm feel like,” Ernie continued, taking a deep drink of his beer.
“Yeah, you should join a website,” Dave said sarcastically.
“I was thinking about it,” Ernie responded with excitement. He hadn’t caught the sarcasm. “I could be like ‘hey I feel your pain lets try to work on this together.’”
Dave laughed into his beer.
“Wait, so you can’t” Ljilja hesitated.
“Ejaculate” Ernie filled in.
“Right. What does Mishka think?”
“Think?”
“About this. I mean do you always have this... problem, with her?”
“More or less. I try. I mean, what can you do? I don’t know, she feels bad I think. I just keep going and going and nothing.”
“Modest,” Dave laughed under his breath.
“What?” Ernie looked at him.
“What?”
“I’m just saying its hard, cause we have sex and I really like women, but I just can’t come.”
“So its not impotency?” Ljilja asked, confused. “Its weird.”
“He’s making this up. Poor Ernie, little Duracell Bunny, just keeps going.”
“Its Energizer Bunny and you wouldn’t understand.”
Ljilja put her hand on Dave’s knee. “Now, now boys,” she tisked, “no need for any of that.”
“’Nother round?” asked the aging bartender.
“Yeah.”
“I’m good,” Ljilja shook her head, placed her hand over her glass.
“No, come on Lil. On me. Three more,” Ernie said to the bartender.
“So impotency, its, what: stress, diet, blood pressure?” listed Ljilja.
“Diabetes. Yeah. I was reading this thing online about things to do with your partner, to work up to it. Ways to sort of get used to coming with someone else.”
“So you’re not impotent solo?” Dave asked, half smiling.
“No. Wait. I’m not impotent” Ernie hissed. “And no, no, I’m fine. Alone I’m okay. That’s what they say to do, with your partner. In front of her.”
“So you do this with Mishka?” Ljilja asked nodding encouragingly at Ernie.
“No,” Ernie shook his head while taking another drink. “I just read this yesterday.”
“But you would do? With Mishka?”
“Where is the lucky lady tonight?” asked Dave.
Mishka was at a Christian women’s conference in Washington.
“What I love most about her is what a great mother she is,” stated the blonde, eighteen year old sitting next to Mishka.
Mishka wasn’t technically a Christian. She’d admit to a tinge of cultural Christianity at best, but true faith was hindered by her belief that Jesus was probably just a really nice guy. But Mishka worked as an assistant in the development department of a nonprofit and Christians could be very generous, especially the women.
Mishka was her boss’ go to girl for the Christian women’s conferences. “You pretend so well,” he’d said. She didn’t mind the conference sessions really, it was the between session coffee breaks that were difficult. But the coffee breaks were also where the money was made.
“She is such a good mom, you’re right Sarah, and so stylish. I don’t know how she finds the time.”
At this particular coffee break Mishka found herself at a table turned impromptu discussion of the merits of Sarah Palin. The women were going around, one by one, and stating what the admired most about the former governor. They were starring at Mishka, it was her turn. “Um,” she paused to think. “I guess you have to admire someone who can keep being so publicly humiliated and still continue to stand up for what she ... believes.” There was a prolonged pause.
“Very good, Mishka. Resilience. It is an essential quality for a woman,” encouraged the table’s de facto leader. The other women at the table nodded and smiled at one another, looking a bit relieved.
Resilience, thought Mishka, Truth. Mishka was feeling a bit in need of this quality herself as of late. Between her boss’ prostitution of her to the Christian Right, her on and off again relations with Ernie, and her growing fears that she was becoming a friendless hermit, Mishka was beginning to feel a bit frayed around the edges. After attending a conference with Mishka four months ago, Sonja, Mishka’s flatmate, had found Jesus and a train load of new friends.
“They’re good people,” Mishka had said to Ernie over one of their nearly nightly phone calls about a week ago.
“Judgmental.”
“No, they’re not. I mean, yeah, okay they are, but apart from that, they’re really good people, its just...”
“They’re nice people, Mish, not good people and you’ve got to get out of there. Having to deal with these people at work is bad enough, but having them around all the time? They’ll brain wash you!”
“Now who’s judgmental. Besides, Sonja’s still Sonja. I don’t want to just leave her. It’s kind of my fault she’s like this. And anyway where would I go?”
“Your fault?”
“Well, I’m the one who took her with me to that conference. I just couldn’t take three days by myself...”
“I remember the text: ‘In enemy territory, will write as soon as is safe.’”
“Right, well, I brought her with me thinking we could have a laugh at night, save my sanity a bit. And they got her. I mean, I knew she was having a hard time over her split with Jack, but...”
“Yeah, what happened with that?”
“With Jack?”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing.”
“Something happened if he changed her into a Born Again.”
“He didn’t change her. That’s what I’m saying. I changed her. Its my fault. It was the music I think, she liked the band the first day.”
“Hey, can you be a Born Again if you weren’t born already?”
“What?”
“I mean, she wasn’t a Christian before, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly, what?”
“Exactly, she wasn’t a Christian before and then she was ‘reborn’ when she became a Christian.”
“Oh, that’s what it means!” Ernie exclaimed.
“What?” Mishka was confused, somehow this conversation had gotten off track.
“I always thought it was reborn, like reconverted or reverted to Christianity or something. I guess this makes more sense.”
“Anyway, I can’t just move” Mishka stated, trying to redirect the conversation.
“Sure you can. People do it all the time. I can help you look.”
“She can’t afford this place on her own.”
“Good thing she’s got a ton of new friends.”
“I can’t afford a place on my own and I don’t want to live with strangers.”
“Look, you’re just making excuses. If you want to stay, stay, but stop complaining.”
Mishka was quiet.
“Look,” Ernie started again.
“No,” she interrupted. “You’re right. You are. I’ll look around. It wont hurt. I’ll just look and then decide.”
“I’ll help,” he offered again sheepishly.
“Thanks.”
She hadn’t started looking yet, but she thought she might. When she got back from this conference. Maybe. She was comfortable with Sonja, even when they fought or didn’t get along. That was part of her problem, wasn’t it, thought Mishka, as a large woman in slacks talked about Sarah Palin’s faith, she was too contented being content.
“So what is going on with you and Mishka?” asked Ljilja over the trio’s fifth beer. She wasn’t really drinking her’s, but the guys hadn’t noticed yet.
“Nothing. You know, we’re us,” Ernie replied, avoiding eye contact.
“Right. You’re you. Like?”
“Well, son, if you are going to be masturbating in front of the girl don’t you think you should make this thing official?” Dave asked in his best Ward Cleaver voice.
“What like marry her?” Ernie cried.
“Perish the thought,” Dave laughed, hand to heart. “Maybe just start calling her your girlfriend.”
“Or stop hitting on every other woman in the room?” offered Ljilja.
“Now, honey, that he can’t help,” Dave jumped in, placing his hand on his wife’s back.
“I don’t!” Ernie declared.
“You do, but its really not your fault,” Dave reassured his friend.
“Man Boy” Ljilja said quietly into her beer.
“What? What did you call me?” Ernie asked turning to Ljilja.
“Man Boy, Erns. You are, you know. Its okay,” she said gently, patting his arm.
“Oh, god. Man Boy,” Ernie moaned resting his head on the bar.
“Man Boy The Impotent,” Dave laughed.
“I’m not impotent,” Ernie mumbled into the wood.
“You’re not really a Man Boy either. Not exactly.” Ernie’s head popped up hopefully. “Its your Aw Shucks charm that’s the problem,” Dave continued. “It’s confusing. The Aw Shucks charm sometimes makes you seem like a Man Boy, but its not actually the same thing.”
“You think?” Ljilja asked.
Dave nodded. “Its a subtle difference.”
“Man Boy?” Ernie repeated in a dazed and defeated voice.
“Its that thing you do,” Dave counseled, “you know, where you say or do something dirty and then you smile or do something goofy and the girls laugh.” Ljilja smiled. “It distracts them,” Dave stated, “disarms them. Quiet clever really.”
“Not clever,” said Ernie.
“You really are charming, sweetie,” Ljilja petted, “just adorable.”
“Adorable Man Boy The Impotent,” Ernie proclaimed. “Fabulous.”
