I order a Vodka Cranberry, and Erica orders something called a “Buttery Nipple”. I gaze at her quizzically before shrugging it off. “Let’s go...find a table,” I shout. “What?” Erica yells. Instead of a screaming competition, I point to the seated section off to the side of the club and start walking in that direction. Before we make it to a table, we are stopped by Erica’s friends, Thomas and Jason. Jason has been trying to get into my pants since I met him three months before, and I have been. " "Well," I smiled, "that would be great, but, as you now know, I wear jockey shorts." Oh yeah, well I guess that you have plenty of sleep wear then don't you?"So I started wearing them every night. But I noticed something. One Saturday morning I had to ask, "Hey Sharon, these nylon boxers?" Yeah, what about them?" How come they don't have a fly?" Oh, well, no one makes nylon boxers for men. I got those in the women's department. You don't mind do you?" she smiled and snuggled up obviously. More

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