Fourteen Beers at Chili's

Page 22

This is the moment D.A.R.E. warned you about all those years ago. You signed that pledge not to do drugs over ten years ago, and this is the first time anyone ever offered you any drugs. Your third-grade self never imagined you'd be invited to toke up in the Chili's bathroom. Kyle might not be some weird guy in a trench coat, but you're still not about to take any drugs from him.

Hang tough, don't puff.

There's no need for weed.

Pot makes your brain rot.

Say nope to dope.

The slogans repeat over and over in your head, strengthening your resolve. It doesn't matter if Kyle or the rest of the bros think you're a pussy. You made a promise all those years ago, and you're bound to keep it. Nevermind that other pledge you made about staying a virgin until marriage. Nobody could reasonably expect you to make that kind of decision before you'd even hit puberty. If the Jonas brothers weren't going to keep their purity rings, neither were you.

"Uh? Do you want to smoke or not?" Kyle asks awkwardly.

"I'm choosing to say no to drugs."

Kyle strokes his wispy mustache. Maybe he's closer to being that guy in the trench coat than you thought. "Mary Jane can be a cruel mistress. You know what?" He pats your shoulder, still stroking his mustache with his other hand. "I'm going to say no to drugs, too. It's about time I took a little tolerance break."

You'd read in the news recently that D.A.R.E. didn't actually make kids less likely to do drugs, but you beg to differ. Daren the Lion would be proud of you for getting a guy in a Hawaiian shirt to turn down weed. Kyle looks like a permanent resident of Margaritaville, and you know how much Jimmy Buffett and the Coral Reefers like to party.

"Besides, those two tabs of acid I took before we left campus are starting to kick in. I should probably stay put until the first peak is over." Kyle leans back in his chair and rests his hands on the back of his neck, elbows up. He closes his eyes and sighs. "Those bells sure do sound beautiful."

You don't hear any bells.

It's too late for Kyle.

You've failed Daren the Lion.

"Are you going to finish your cheese sticks?" you ask shamelessly.

"Namaste, bro. Chow down."

The mozzarella sticks are lukewarm now, but still delicious. You knew it would be pointless to order an appetizer with so many bros around to mooch off of. Now that your stomach is full, you feel revitalized and ready to drink. Maddie brings by round after round of beer, and each one is somehow better than the last. The closer you get to your goal, the more satisfied you feel.

"You ever think about how toilet paper hasn't really changed in the last, like, two hundred years? Like some cardboard and paper is really the best they can do?" Kyle muses. "Bidets don't count. Nobody in their right mind would spray water up their ass."

"Kyle, you going to drink you beer?" you ask, eyeing his drinks. He's got two of them now, both untouched.

"No, that little guy down there won't let me have it until I can answer his riddle." He side eyes the salt shaker.

"What riddle?"

"What does a woman have two of that a cow has four of?"

The riddle catches you off guard. How could Kyle not figure it out? The answer is so painfully obvious.

IS THE ANSWER...

LEGS (GO TO PAGE 29)MILKERS (GO TO PAGE 30)

BEER COUNTER: 8