Jack had a gig the other night and, in keeping with the laws of the universe, where there are musicians there are women dancing in front of the stage ogling the musicians. Women with big butts. So one of Jack's friends came to this particular gig (this is the friend who keeps trying to get Jack to come down to Tijuana to see the Donkey Show) (and if you ask, "What's the Donkey Show?" Jack will roll his eyes and say, "What do you think happens with two women and a donkey on stage in Tijuana?"), and during a break Jack and Friend were talking and Friend became aware of a woman with a butt so fantastically splendid that it "looked like she had a rump roast stuffed in her pants," who was standing behind Jack boldly appreciating his not inconsiderable bike rider's glutes. Insinuations were made, no doubt, because a few days later Jack ran into Friend and Friend asked Jack if he'd, you know, gotten it on with the Splendid Rump Roast.

When I heard that I was like, "Wha-huh? He knows you're married." Which gave Jack the opportunity to roll his eyes again, and sigh, and say, "Friend is a player, he doesn't know me all that well, and he's not really tuned in to the whole fidelity vibe." But still, I was kind of insulted! Friend knows me, too, a little; I like Friend! And yet he gets a little thrill from the idea of Jack cheating on me!

I took the whole thing personally for about a half an hour, and then I decided to set it aside. Because it's just guys, and guys talk. But on the flip side of this grubby little coin, the band's gigs have been packed lately and they've been getting some good press, and there exists the very real potential opportunity for the band to do a European tour. A tour with big dancing European butts and crummy European hotel rooms with empty European beds.

You see where this is going?

Me: So if you guys go on tour, girls will be throwing themselves at you every night.

Jack: Me? Yes.

Me: And Mitch is divorced and Alastair's single, too, though he's got a solid girlfriend, and Tom's married.

Jack: Listen, don't worry, I always room with Tom on tour.


Jack: He can sleep through anything!

Me: (silence)

Jack: He snores, though, which kind of breaks the mood.

Me: You should quit while you're still barely ahead.

Jack: But you know me, a little snoring's not going to stand in the way of romance.

Me: Shut up, please, I beg of you.

Jack: Especially if we're in Italy or Norway.