Piss hard. Or How to fuck up a dude conversation.

I lived in Tempe, AZ for a couple of years. I loved the Phoenix area and may not have given it enough of a chance. I could see moving back there. Oh yeah. I cooked at a few different restaurants out there. Red Devil Pizza, Pita Jungle and Arizona Roadhouse. That last one was a fairly weak brew pub. Some nice folks worked there though. I had a couple of really good managers. I had a short but sweet fling with a 6'1" waitress (I am 5'9" and do not at all mind dating women who stand nearly a full head taller than I do) who was cool as shit but ended up having to move back to her native Germany.  I liked a few of the waiters for hanging out after work and drinking purposes even though they were borderline frat boy douches who listened to Korn and Limp Bizkit. Fun enough guys though for the occasional beer and bourbon sessions. Most of those sessions went the same path from beginning to end. Drinks. Work shit talk. Drinks. Talk wrestling. Drinks. Drinks. And then they'd kick in with the "once when I was fuckin" tales. I usually kept a low profile in those. Kept my stuff to myself. Most of the shit they'd spew was lies anyway. But one night we got some truth that really rattled their cages. Truth they didn't want. Truth because the kid who told the story was too dumb to make it up.

The dishwasher there was this squirrely little fucker with horrible little braids. Most of the time, Coolio type braids on white guys look awful to me because of all of the white scalp that shows through. Makes the hair style look anemic and sickly, I think. Well, this little dude had them. He was maybe 5'2". And built like a little fire plug. Nobody seemed to like him but I had no problems with him. I had heard from others that he only had this awful disher job as far as work went and lived in a dump with some meth heads out in west Phoenix. He was a creepy little bastard though and was always cranking Jane's Addiction. A big minus in my book. Anyway, he busted his ass at work and never complained about all of the filthy pans, pots, spatulas and grill parts I threw his way to be scrubbed all night long. Once after a really busy night I walked by his dish tank on my way out to invite him out for a beer and shot on me. In his odd little way he seemed happy about my asking him and said he'd be out once he finished. I was about to see him ruin two frat metal dude's evening with only one little story.

Aaahhhhh...a cold pint and shot glass full of Jim Beam later and the two waiters and I were chilled out really nice.They were both wearing fake puka shell chokers and had gone heavy on the hair mousse that evening. Other than that they didn't look a thing alike. One was a skinny fuck with a face that really dumb women found hot and the other was burly and big. Like Fred Flinstone. Disher came out and I told him to go to the bar and get what he wanted and tell the bar dude to put it on my tab for the night. When the other guys saw him they asked me what the fuck was up. They didn't like him and couldn't believe that I had asked him to drink with us. I explained that he'd busted his ass all night without a cross word and I wanted him to chill with a drink for a spell. He came back to the table and sat with us. The other two forgot him as they...yes...started in with the Fuckin Tales.  Skinny told some bullshit story about getting head from his sharp ass high school Spanish teacher and Fred told us about tittyfucking some girl and having her room mates walk in while he was bare assed pumping away. None of this was really good or going anywhere and a lull came up fast. We were all nursing drinks and lighting smokes when Disher breaks his silence by asking, "You guys know what's wild?" We all just looked at him. "Man, sex with dudes is really wild" Before I could react at all Fred and Skinny both hollered, "FUCKIN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" I fell out of my chair sideways laughing my head off. And he told the story.

One night he had gone to a local porn shop looking for whack off material. He made his purchase and headed back out to his car. An older guy in a pickup spoke to him and they struck up a conversation about easy ways to make 50 bucks. The old fella offered Disher the money to come to his pad and play around for a spell. Disher took him up on it and followed him there. He told us that once they were there the guy asked him to drink three cans of beer as fast as he could. Once he killed them, the old guy asked him to do something special. He told us, "So he laid down on the couch and asked me to piss on him but to piss hard. I didn't know what he meant. I was confused." I forget which one of us asked him to explain his confusion but he did. "Well, I didn't know if he wanted me to piss hard like force my piss out hard and not like a soft spray or if he wanted me to piss on him with my dick all hard." Skinny and Fred had their faces flat on the table at this point and may have been crying. Not me. I needed to know. "Well...which did you do?" He smiled really wide and said, "Both." He killed his pint, downed his shot, stood and announced that he was on his way to the porn shop and booked. We sat in silence. Well, it was silent but for me laughing at my two idiotic waiter pals. They weren't too happy with me for ruining their dude talk so I got up, booked and went home. Stood at my toilet. Pissed hard.