The Big "O": A Romantic Comedy (8 page)

M
ORNING SUNLIGHT STREAMED through the windows of Victor and Juliette’s kitchen.

Juliette worked on her laptop, surrounded by books and papers. Vic, wearing a shirt with, "Great Vocab Didn't Save the Thesaurus from Extinction" on it, searched the cupboards for food.

“There isn't a damn thing to eat,” Victor said hatefully.

“Uh-huh,” Juliette said trying to concentrate on her work.

“Are you listening to me?” Victor asked.

“Uh-huh,” Juliette said, not looking up.

“Damn it, Juliette, there's no fucking food,” Victor said. He was truly angry, yet his tone was that of a belligerent, bratty, child. Didn’t he get that she’s behind on her work? Juliette lost it.

“Food doesn't fuck, Victor, or I'm guessing eating would be an even more satisfying experience for women… plus, I know that what you really mean is, "’There's no cereal… fuck it!’ Right?!”

Victor put his hands on his hips and stared at her.

“But, as serious and dismal as the food situation may be, I have mere weeks to prepare my dissertation and thesis defense so, much as I love you, I'm not going to screw up by stopping what I'm doing to go to the store and buy your cereal,” Juliette added.

Victor snorted and stalked out of the room.

Juliette returned to her work.

Edwin entertained his friends in the dining room of his penthouse apartment. The boys sat around the dining room table. Behind them was a glittering view of the city lights below. Max dealt a hand of poker. Edwin poured the guys drinks. Victor sat sullen.

Edwin sat and the three men contemplated their hands.

“You guys are assholes,” Victor finally said.

“What are you talking about?” Max said.

“I got a Royal Flush,” Edwin said.

“Your advice was shit,” Victor said.

“For real?” Max said to Edwin.

“I'm laying 'em down right now,” Edwin said and did so. The others laid down their cards.

“It's gotta be genetic,” Max said to Edwin, “You magnetize money, in all forms, even potential money.”

“Not used to it by now?” Edwin said drily.

“It's uncanny,” Max said.

Max dealt again.

“Are you fuckers listening to me?” Victor said.

“Which part didn't work?” Max said.

“All of it, none of it. Sexy toys and gear, romancing her and shit. It was abysmal,” Victor said, “I don't know what I'm going to do.”

Edwin and Max exchanged a look.

“Well, say something fuckers,” Victor said angrily.

“We've decided to help you,” Max said.

“Yes. We are taking an active interest in correcting this situation, as there is a direct correlation between your happiness and our own,” Edwin added.

“I dunno, what're you guys thinking?” Victor asked. He was much calmer and sounded the tiniest bit relieved.

“You have to keep trying. Commit to saving your relationship,” Edwin said.

“Dude, I don't see you fucking popping the question with Isis. Don't you think you should handle your own shit instead of getting all up in mine?” Victor asked. Max grinned.

“I know Isis wants a ring, and I want to give it to her. But in my own time, on my terms. I'm waiting for her to learn to behave herself,” Edwin finally said.

Vic laughed and looked at his cards. He nonchalantly tried to get a look at Edwin's cards. Edwin covered them.

“Sure, that shit'll work, Edwino,” Victor said and laughed again.

“I get it, I get it. Isis needs to be a kitty in the bedroom and a tigress in the boardroom,” Max said.

“Hospital billing department,” Victor corrected.

“I don't care what she does for a living, I love her,” Edwin said, “this isn't about that, where she works. I already have the ring. I'm not going to let her control what I do, including when I say I do, I'd do anything to make her happy, but in the right timing.” Victor shrugged.

“Speaking of timing, and all good things coming to those who wait, or all good things waiting for those who come…” Max said.

The guys laughed and kept playing poker.

“Vic, your deal with Juliette is relatively easy to solve. You've surely done the deed in the past, man. We just need to reverse engineer the solution,” Max said.

“Yeah, we figure out what you did right before, and duplicate it… a scientific approach,” Edwin added.

“Every guy has his own step-by-step process for satisfying a woman, but not every guy knows what the hell he is doing, even if he's doing it right. And why is that?” Max asked.

“Just fucking finish, asshole, and stop asking theoretical questions like this is a power point presentation and your fucking career is riding on it,” Victor said.

“Chill, Vic. He's trying to help,” Edwin said.

“It’s because there are four categories of success or failure in life. There's "conscious competence,” and "unconscious competence” right?” Max said, “I don’t remember who figured it out exactly,” he added. Victor and Edwin exchanged a look. Where was Max going with this? He looked at Victor as if what he’d said was deeply meaningful.

Victor tried to make sense of the conscious competence and unconscious competence concept but it was hard to follow.

“So?” Victor finally said and shrugged. Max looked at Edwin. Edwin shrugged. Max sighed.

“
So
, you've been unconsciously competent at giving a girl The Big “O.” But now you need to figure out exactly what you did and how you did it, so you can be consciously competent and, bada-bing, bada-boom, give it to Juliette,” Max said. Edwin and Victor thought that over.

“What the fuck are the other two categories of success and failure?” Victor finally asked.

“Nah, man. Forget em. We're handling your shit, starting right now,” Max said.

“Yeah, those other categories are for people with serious issues,” Edwin said.

A minute later, Edwin laid down his cards.

“Full house.” Victor and Max groaned.

Inside of her home office, Emily posted on her professional Twitter and FaceBook. Her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID and saw that it was Isis calling. She grabbed the phone.

“Hi, honey,” Emily said when she answered the phone. She stared out the office window.

Inside of the hospital billing office, Isis sat at a desk with a headset phone on her head. Isis looked wildly around the office. At a table by a water fountain a bunch of her coworkers were gobbling up cookies and snacks as if they were starving.

“Chérie, I hate my job,” Isis whispered into the phone.

“I seem to remember you saying that,” Emily said and juggled her cell phone while typing on the keyboard.

“I'm at my breaking point. Somebody just received a cookie bouquet. If they offer me one of those damned cardboard looking psychedelic frosted monstrosities I'm going to quit on the spot and go freelance,” Isis said. Emily laughed and nearly dropped her phone.

“Being self-employed isn't the easiest. Can you even be a freelance medical biller?” Emily asked.

“I just wanna be free,” Isis said.

“FreeMax is an illusion. Freelance is not free. Alas, my boss is a bitch and a slave driver,” Emily said and, holding her cell phone to her ear with one shoulder, tapped on her laptop with both hands.

“You mean Max?” Isis asked and giggled into the phone.

“I mean me, myself and bitchy I. Speaking of which, I gotta go,” Emily said, “I have to get back to work. I only have a couple hours until Max Sr. and Jr. get home.”

“Okay, ma chérie,” Isis said and made a "kiss, kiss" noise, then hung up.

Approximately 7 faculty members and 22 graduate students, one of whom was Juliette, currently conducted research at the university Laboratory for Human Developmental Studies.

While most of the faculty and graduate students were affiliated with the Department of Psychology, research assistance was also provided to faculty from the Linguistics and Human Ecology departments as well as the College of Education. Ongoing research included studies in the incremental acquisition and comprehension of language comprehensive, infant and child social groups and group dynamics, as well as studies in the effects of art education, artistic experiential play, and exposure to creative processes on the cognitive development of infants and young children.

The facility included a waiting room for parents, numerous laboratories, offices for faculty and graduate researchers, a student lounge, and a developmental psychology library, as well as space for visiting faculty and post-doctoral fellows. Through research, the psych department, including Juliette, strove to advance theory and knowledge within developmental periods and across transitions, to understand group dynamics among young children, and also to further the understanding of how art and creative expression affected infant and child development.

Inside of a darkened laboratory suite, Juliette watched through a one-way mirror as multiple toddlers played inside of a brightly lit unique creative playroom, full of toys and art supplies. She watched, rapt, and periodically made notations onto an electronic tablet with a stylus.

Inside of Victor and Juliette’s house, in their unfinished basement, Max stood next to an easel with an over-sized pad of paper on it, holding a marker. Edwin and Victor sat on an old dirty plaid sofa, and drank beer. It was obvious that no one ever came down to the basement.

“So, let's get down and, hopefully, dirty. What do you remember about the times you did the deed?” Max asked, then drew a cartoon man and labeled it "Victor."

“Your basic in and out, not always the fucking military position…” Victor replied.

“You mean missionary position. Military position is an entirely different beast,” Max said.

“What the hell, asshole?” Victor asked.

“Are we talking about repeatedly stabbing a female in the crotch with the stiffest and pointiest part of your pelvic region or something a little more sophisticated and/or subtle?” Edwin asked.

“What the hell else is there, Edwin?” Victor said.

“How many women have you slept with?” Edwin asked in response.

“How many women have
you
slept with?” Victor asked Edwin.

“Okay, guys,” Max said, “Let's not go down that road.” He tapped the cartoon figure.

“Victor, think back for a moment about your technique, from stimulation methods to position,” Max said. Victor thought for a moment.

“Well, there was the angry dragon, the cow girl, the oopie. The dirty Sanchez…” Victor said, laughing, “Just kidding about that, never did the dirty Sanchez.”

“What's an oopie?” Max asked.

“What the heck are any of them?” Edwin asked.

“Oh, you know,” Victor said to Max, “when the girl asphyxiates you and rubs your scruff until it pushes you over the edge and then bam, man milk!”

“Jeez,” Max replied.

“Uh, yeah,” Edwin said.

“What? Don't tell me you guys don't know what I'm talking about… 'cause I know you fucking do,” Victor said.

“Isn't "scruffing" guy on guy action?” Edwin asked. Victor jumped up and got all up in Edwin's face. Edwin hid his fear and tried not to shrink backwards.

“Number 1, that's not what I said and number 2, how the fuck would I know what two homosexuals do in the privacy of their own fuckfest, Edwin? That's outside my exper-fucking-tise and, frankly, dickwad, none of my or your judgmental business. Love is love and sacred, whoever it's between,” Victor said.

“Sorry, man. That wasn't what I meant at all,” Edwin said.

“Apology accepted, ass-hat,” Victor said and sat back down.

“Okay, okay. Settle down. Let's not go down this road, either, gentlemen,” Max said with irritation, “Victor, let's start with a brief list of former uh, girlfriends, and such.” Max turned to face the oversized pad of paper clipped to the easel and prepared to take notes.

“Just the ones who were serious relationships… no one night stands, or hook-ups,” Edwin said, “the list needs to be manageable.”

Victor immediately brightened up. This bit would be fun.

“Okay, asshole. I get it. Only the mystical creatures that geeks like you never got, no bangs or shags,” Victor said and then thought for a moment, “There was Amy, Tammy, Jilly, and then Heather.”

“Okay, five serious relationships,” Max said.

Max wrote the list of names on the giant pad of paper.

“Serious-ish. None were Juliette,” Victor clarified.

“So, how exactly did you pleasure these women?” Edwin asked delicately.

“Well, I started by arousing them, obviously,” Victor said.

“How, exactly?” Max asked, marker in hand. Victor thought a minute.

“I… Well, I'd start touching her,” Victor finally said.

“Where, exactly?” Edwin asked helpfully.

“I'd touch her va jay jay, of course…” Victor snarled.

“The va jay jay of each of them?” Max clarified.

“Yeah,” Victor said.

“But not at the same time,” Edwin said, as if that were in question.

“Obviously, asshole,” Victor replied.

“Okay. Go on…” Max said.

“Then, they'd…” Victor said to Max. Then he paused, turned to Edwin and added, “…individually” he said to make his statement comprehensible.

“…touch my cock and then, generally, they'd writhe about, or some such bullshit, and moan, and then Wham! Bam! Thank you, Ma'am. The deed was done,” he finished, directing most of his response to Max.

“That's the secret recipe?” Edwin asked.

“So, mutual stimulation for arousal and then you stick em with the Cock-a-Doodle Doo, and take it on home?” Max asked.

Victor looked back and forth between each of his friends and narrowed his eyes.

“What the fuck, dudes? Yeah,
that's it.
Like you two are some kinda Greek deities? What'd you two do? Appear as a white bull then seduce and make it with whatever mortal women are around? Maybe have Eros dart them in the ass with an arrow first?” Victor said angrily.

“Don't get so emotional, Victor,” Edwin said, “We’re trying to help you man. We’re taking time out of our lives for this.” Max looked at his watched and groaned. He put down the marker that he had been using to write.