“I do believe I clearly won the wager,” Jim says from the other side of me where Carter and Claire are laughing hysterically. “Judge, I think Jenny here needs to be the winner of this heat for creativity alone.”
The whole tent lets out a roar of approval and there is so much cheering and clapping that people from other tents have wandered over to see what is going on. I’m so mortified I can’t even move. All I can do is stare at all of the vibrators bouncing up and down on the table in front of me until Claire’s Butterfly FX 2000 inches ahead of the rest and bounces right off of the end of the table where I now see a black and white checkered finish line is painted.
“Son of a bitch!” Claire shouts. “I would have totally won that thing!”
“So, babe, about that pep talk before the race-”
I cut Drew off before he can say anything else. “Don’t even think it. You are NOT getting your brains fucked out tonight!”
Chapter 15 – Dr. Duke of Earl
Contrary to popular belief, standing around at a vibrator race and allowing your wife to masturbate in a tent full of strangers when she’s actually supposed to be putting the vibrator down on a table to race it will not get you laid. Even if she promises. I try to get her to change her mind for two hours after we get home. My dad is no help. Once he had found out what happened, I get a forty-five minute lecture on how you’re never supposed to leave a man behind. After he leaves, Jenny tells me to sleep on the couch and console my penis on my own.
I try. But every time I get a good yank and pull session going, I hear Billy crying upstairs to be fed. It’s all fun and games until your kid starts crying right before you’re going to release the demons. Talk about an erection killer.
Today, I have the house all to myself and you would think I’d spend it comforting my penis, but no. I have other plans. Jenny took Billy to Claire’s shop with her today while she does some bookkeeping, and Veronica is at preschool for a few hours. I’m using this time wisely. With the help of the little package I had got in the mail yesterday, I am going to fix mine and Jenny’s sex life in just ninety minutes. I ordered a self-help CD called: How to Bring the Spark Back into Your Marriage. I’ve closed the blinds, locked the doors, and put on my favorite motivational shirt: Camel’s Tow Service; ask us about our Moose Knuckle discounts.
I grab the package from my work bag, where I hid it yesterday after I got the mail, tear into it, and pull out the plastic CD case. Popping it into the stereo system in the living room, I crank up the sound and hit play.
“Hello and thank you for purchasing: How to Bring the Spark Back into Your Marriage!”
“You’re quite welcome!” I reply to the man’s voice coming from the speakers. He’s British and British people always sound smart when they talk so this should be good. “’Ello Gov’na!”
See? He’s already made me smarter. I’m talking British.
“How ‘bout a spot of tea with the Queen?”
“Make yourself comfortable as we begin our first lesson.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” I say as I take a seat on the couch.
“Lesson One: Compliments. Repeat after me, ‘You look beautiful today, insert name of wife here.’”
“You look beautiful today, insert name of wife here.”
“Have you lost weight?”
“Have you lost weight? Man, this is so easy. I am going to rock this shit.”
“Take your clothes off and give me a blow job.”
“Take your clothes off and give me a blow job.”
“That was a trick. If you repeated that last line, you will never get laid again.”
“Heeeeey, no fair! What kind of self-help is this shit!”
“Lesson Two: Helping out around the house. Repeat after me, ‘Can I help you with those dishes?’”
“This is never going to work. She’ll know something is up if I say that shit.”
“Say it or you’re never getting laid again!”
“Son of a birthday cake! Can you hear me?” I ask the stereo in confusion.
I let out a sigh and figure I better do what he tells me or he’s going to get really angry. I don’t need self-help guy angry at me or he’ll stop helping me. “Can I help you with those dishes?”
“It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry.”
“Seriously? You expect me to believe that folding laundry will get me laid? Do you even know what you’re talking about?” I ask the stereo.
“I know what I’m doing. Say it.”
Stereo guy is starting to get a little angry. I’m kind of afraid of stereo guy right now. I want to turn him off but I’m scared. He knows where I live.
“It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry,” I say nervously.
“Say it like you mean it, asshole!”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! It’s okay, honey, I’ll fold the laundry! Really, I will! I LOVE folding laundry!”
“Lesson Three: Helping out with the children. Repeat after me, ‘I’ll get up with, insert name of child here. You go back to sleep.”
“I’ll get up with, insert name of child here. You go back to sleep,” I say quickly so I can stay on stereo guy’s good side. I need to pass this shit or my penis is going to be batting solo forever.