Friday evening.
Just the boys and I.
Stanley the sex bunny and Carl the dense one are late but I’ve started working on a relatively cheap bottle of Pinot Grigio that’s supposed to have fresh fruity pineapple notes and hints of breadcrumbs.
I was given alfresco seating at Wine Connection, New Tech Park.
The heat these days is unforgiving, but I figured it's evening and the nearby water fountain could perhaps provide us some visual relief.
Stanley and Carl arrived together, both looking hot and bothered.
"The heat!" Stanley cursed and looked at me as if I were to be blamed for earth fever.
Carl the dense one began fanning himself with floppy hands like an American high school girl about to be named Prom Queen.
The heat has turned our beef cake into a cupcake and sweaty dainty princess isn't very happy.
"Adam, it's sooooooo hot," Carl the dense one complained, his python sized biceps swelling up to a level that's dangerously beyond all acceptable levels.
"At this rate, I might as well just not wear clothes at all," said Stanley who, to be fair to him, does find all excuses to not wear clothes at all.
Soon, the three of us placed our orders (over-ordering as usual) and it was time for updates.
Carl the dense one raised his hand excitedly, bouncing in his seat.
"Ok, Carl, updates, go!" Stanley commanded like a game show host.
"I got promoted!" Carl said, his python sized biceps swelling up to a level that showed an intricate network of veins underneath.
"Jesus, Carl," Stanley stared at the dense one's pulsating biceps, using the name of God in vein.
It was about time.
Carl had been slogging like a slave at his work place and for the last five years, due to a combination of change in various high-level bosses, always seemed to miss out on a promotion.
"Are you happy with your pay rise?" asked Stanley, who is always interested in packages.
"That's the thing... it's not as high as I wanted, but at least, I'm promoted!"
Empty glasses were immediately filled with Pinot Grigio and toasts and congratulations were made.
Our food arrived just in time and we tucked in, as we digested Carl's very happy news.
Just then, a cute daddy and his son -- who looked to be about 4 -- ran towards the nearby water fountain.
"Oooo, look at that fountain of youth," Stanley said.
"Please tell me you're talking about the daddy," I begged.
Stanley turned to me and rolled eyes for me to see.
The four year old was happily weaving in and out of the spouting water, his little feet making kiddy splashy sounds.
Stanley continued studying this blissful picture, happy for the visual relief.
The daddy is hot! Stanley mouthed the words.
When the water died down, Stanley turned his attention back to us.
"I guess it's my turn to update now," Stanley said.
Carl nodded and put a large piece of cheese in his mouth.
"I'm experimenting with semen retention," Stanley said casually like it's the most normal topic to raise at dinner.
Carl paused in mid-feed, wondering whether to swallow or not.
"I read somewhere that this does wonders to the body. It's like, the longer you keep your semen," Stanley paused and gave Carl eye contact, "the healthier you feel."
Carl, who looked like a chipmunk preparing for hibernation, starting tearing up.
"It's been a week, and already I feel rejuvenated. It's like I have golden essence coursing through my veins and keeping me alive."
"You know you sound like a witch who just ate young children right, Stan," I said.
"Were you planning to eat that kid?" I asked.
"Well, laugh all you want. When we're 50, I'll look like 35."
Carl choked.
"You mean you are going to retain semen till you're 50?" asked Carl, spewing microbits of cheese.
I give this new trend of yours three more days, I told Stan who had once famously argued that men are supposed to be promiscuous because our appendage are hung outside of our body for frequent use.
We ate the rest of our dinner cautiously, hoping our stomach could retain our food given this strangely apt topic.
But Stanley wouldn't give up.
He started sending the group chat link after link about the benefits of semen retention.
Carl was shifting in his seat, getting uncomfortable by the minute.
Finally, he set his fork down and patted Stanley on his shoulder.
"Stan, I thought my update was news of the day.
"I guess I'm wrong.
"And I must say, you win. Your retention has stolen my attention," Carl said.
Stanley was impressed with Carl's wit.
"Well done, Carl. Great start. Now, imagine what more you can do if you too, retained semen."
Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people
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