day five; favorite scheme // “We gotta start with Dennis. Can you get him so drunk tonight? On tequila, but like, a lot of it.”
Mac is sitting across from Dennis at the bar and the lights are low. He thinks maybe if it were a girl in front of him, it could almost be considered romantic. But it’s his friend, it’s Dennis, and he’s trying to get him drunk.
“Why don’t you show me again ‘cause I’m getting just a little bit confused,” Mac says in the most naive and innocent way he can muster. He tries not to get derailed by the tequila dribbling down Dennis’ chin or by the tight tank top Dennis decided to put on before going to the bar.
Mac’s eyes shouldn’t linger. Dennis is not a girl.
Still, Mac’s breath hitches when Dennis licks the salt off his hand, can’t help but follow the trail of Dennis’ tongue chasing after the salt. Maybe Mac is a little drunk too.
Dennis can barely take that shot, Mac notices. He grins despite himself because Dennis is a sloppy drunk and there’s a feeling in the pit of Mac’s stomach, the kind of feeling that makes him smile when he’s around Dennis. The kind of feeling that will fill him up with guilt when he’ll think about it before falling asleep.
“Oh that’s great,” he comments, watching Dennis sink his teeth into the lime.
He knows Dennis is drunk, drunker than he’s been in a while, but Dee told him to get him so drunk he can barely stand so Mac decides to push his luck and make him do one more.
“Alright! So I’m gonna do the shot first…”
Dennis interrupts him with a chorus of “no’s” while Mac places the shot of tequila between them. “Oh, please dude, you’re not listening to me,” Dennis slurs and he’s fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open.
“Well, I’m just not getting it, bro,” Mac lies and he listens as Dennis teaches him again, the proper way to take tequila shots.
Mac thinks he could go on like this, in this playful back and forth with Dennis, forever. He knows he can’t though, and not just because Dennis liver would give out sooner than later.
He can’t because he knows he’ll never have Dennis forever. Dennis is bound to move on to great things. He’ll find a girl, and settle down with her and probably get married. He’ll find a real job, with his fancy Ivy League degree and he’ll forget all about that time he shared an apartment and owned a bar with the weird kid from high school who used to sell him weed.
And that’s fine. That’s the way life is supposed to go. Mac certainly doesn’t want to wake up one morning, being forty and still living in a shitty apartment with his best friend.
He wants to be happy. He wants the white picket fence, a beautiful wife with giant tits by his side and maybe a couple of kids running around in the front yard. He figures that must be what happy feels like because that’s everything he never had growing up.
He looks up at Dennis. His eyes are shut and he’s swaying dangerously on the other side of the bar, the alcohol in his hand sloshing all over the floor.
He’s still got time to figure out his white picket fence life. For now, he’ll settle for Dennis.
(Because, maybe in a twisted way, happiness can also be two codependent losers and their fucked up group of friends getting up to no good.)