Saturday Night Blues

“I need a girl.”

Harry was down. Really down. This was a line which came out only in the direst of circumstances, when he was either very horny, very desperate or really really bored. It was certainly not the last one.

Tom grunted. Dick kept on staring at the screen in front of him.

Harry looked at them, a forlorn expression adorning his face. His very eyes begged for pity, his posture screamed for sympathy. His hands were held outward in a gesture of supplication and his voice was filled with self-loathing.

Dick finally looked up from his screen. “Why?”

It was a simple question, asked neither in malice nor in pity. There was nothing but idle curiosity behind it. Why did Harry, who was so uncomfortable around girls so as to almost be gay, suddenly want one? Curious. Very curious.

Harry looked at Dick with askance. He was sitting next to a pile of Dick’s dirty clothes, the very picture of a guy left out there to rot. The clothes he was wearing certainly did nothing to assuage that impression. A loose black tee-shirt and black shorts. The short crop of hair on his potato-shaped head and his small eyes further served to cement that image.

“Dude,” replied Harry finally, “I need a girl. I can’t spend the rest of my life with my hand!”

Tom looked up from the point he had been staring at for the past hour or so. “It’d still be a better love story than twilight!” he sniggered. Dick laughed with him. Harry was not amused.

“Right,” he drawled. “Easy for you to say. He,” Harry pointed at Tom, “Is through with the one he was after, while you have a whole seraglio of them!” He ended with waggling a finger at Dick, the weight of his accusation such that it would have made Atlas stagger.

Dick, in contrast, lifted not an eyebrow. “What do you want me to do?” he asked finally. “Lend you one of mine? Not gonna happen any time soon, mate.”

A raised finger was all the response he got. Harry’s frustration was evident.

Tom finally raised himself from his position. “What happened, mate?” he asked sympathetically. “Not getting enough  porn?”

“You wish,” retorted Harry. “I just watched Emanuelle in Space…”

“Oh kay, oh kay!” said Dick, rising from his bean bag. “Stop getting drool on the floor!”

Harry sent Dick a look of utter loathing.

“How is it?” asked Tom eagerly.

“Couldn’t you tell?” came Dick’s snide retort. Both the other occupants ignored him.

“Amazing,” said Harry dreamily. “I wish I knew the name of that girl. She’s hawt!”

That got Dick’s attention. “Everything’s a Google search away in today’s world!” Google was opened. Some furious typing later, they came to IMDB.

“Krista Allen,” said Harry. “Yep, that’s her!”

Google images. The amount of drool on the floor would probably be enough to have filled a few Olympic sized swimming pools. Not like anyone cared, Dick’s room was dirtier than the Augean stables.

“Dude….” Tom’s voice trailed off as image after image of Krista Allen flashed across the screen. “This is epic shit!” Dick nodded, his body on auto-pilot. His mind had completely stopped functioning. Harry was grinning in the background, the star of the show.

“And now,” said Harry, playing the part of a tantalising narrator to perfection, “Imagine her in a softcore movie.”

The expressions on his friends’ faces convinced Harry that he was indeed the master of the room.

“Done!” said Tom, getting up. “I’m set for the rest of the night. How many others are there, apart from the first one? Gimme all of them!”

“I deleted them,” replied Harry simply, grinding it in with artful perfection, an evil smile on his face.

“It’ll be there on LAN!” said Dick triumphantly. Harry’s face fell. A few minutes of furious searching later revealed the first episode.

Harry recovered some of his former swagger. “You poor things, you…” his voice trailed off. Pity no one was listening to him. The movie was started and two eager faces stared, the third trying to look bored but failing.

“Wait!” yelled Tom. “I’m going to my room and watching it. Don’t ruin it for me!” Dick obliged, shutting off the video player. They both turned to Harry, who was grinning at them, his expression that of a lord distributing grain among his subjects.

“How good is it, really?” asked Dick eagerly.

“Good?” replied Harry incredulously. “It’s bloody amazing! I tell you, you’ll love it! Totally love this one! It’ll make you wanna exercise your hand like nothing else before!” He stopped at that dramatic high, both Dick and Tom waiting with bated breath for his next statement.

“God I need a girl!”


3 thoughts on “Saturday Night Blues

  1. back to what you are!

    I can associate this very easily. But you write well . Never thought this can turn out to be so good :p

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