Ryan made a face. “Either way, I don’t think I can eat it.” He pressed his fork against the fish on his plate and some viscous liquid shot up into the air. He turned a little green as he pushed the plate away. “I would send it back, but I think the cook only had one eye and a dirty mustache. You can’t send food back to a man with one eye and a dirty mustache.”
Against my better judgment, my curiosity was piqued. “And why is that?”
He shrugged. “One-eyed dirty mustache men are more likely to murder you.”
“Is that so? Done an official study on it, have you?”
“Past experience.”
“I don’t know what that says about you as a person that you’ve had enough experiences with one-eyed men with dirty mustaches in order for you to be able to say that most if not all are murderers.”
“Gay fairy married,” he said, voice deadpan. “Dark wizards. Fairy drag mothers. Dragons. Magic mushrooms. Penis noses. Pseudo-elves that want to take your virginity. Everyone that wants to take your virginity.”
“It is a precious thing,” I agreed. “I can’t wait to give it away.”
He scowled at me. “Just hand it off, will you?”
I rolled my eyes. “It becomes a burden to carry after a while. Why are we even talking about this? We were making fun of you.”
He eyed me for a moment. Then, “Before we left, I ran into one of those fan clubs you were talking about.”
“Oh?” I managed to say, as if I hadn’t just started sweating like a motherfucker. “That right?”
Ryan nodded. “Yeah. Strangest thing, I’ll admit. There was a woman there… well, a girl really. She seemed to be in charge of the group.”
“She wishes,” I muttered. “That bitch.”
“What?”
Oh shit. “I said, no more fishes because they make me itch.” I made a show of pushing the dinner plate away. “So how was it meeting your adoring fans?” My voice was tinged with what I hoped to be the perfect amount of sarcasm. In reality, it came out slightly strained.
“Intense. Very… intense. They wanted me to sign stuff. Like papers and thighs.”
“You poor dear. It must have been so hard to have everyone fawning over you.”
He shrugged. “They were sweet. Well, most of them were. There was a guy there.”
“Oh?” I said. I wondered if it was considered okay if I set something on fire to cause a distraction. Like a chair. Or Gary.
“Named Martin? No. Wait. Mervin.”
“Sounds foreign,” I said. “Must not be from around here. You’ll probably never see him again. You should probably forget all about him. Forever. Are you tired? I’m tired and—”
“Said he was a Sam Girl.”
“A what now?” I smiled to show that I thought it was amusing, but it came out as a grimace because I was freaking out.
“Sam Girl,” he repeated. “Apparently it’s a thing. Like Foxy Ladies.”
“I’ll be honest,” I said. “The fact that you just said Foxy Ladies really made my day. Say it again.”
“Foxy Ladies.”
“Yeah. Didn’t have the same effect that time. Maybe not say it so growly.”
“Mervin wasn’t very happy to see me,” Ryan said, leaning back in his chair. “Said he wasn’t a fan.”
“Can’t win them all, am I right?” I forced a hearty laugh to show this was just between us bros and that I understood completely. “Bros before hoes,” I said and immediately cringed internally.