Urban Insanity: Three Men and a BOB

Cleaning up the mess that a friend creates when he's juggling several men can consume one's thoughts, time, and energy, especially if the friend is totally driven by hormones. If you repetitively "handle" your friend's drama for him and let him skate by in blissful alcoholic indifference, his partying whirlwind will eventually hinder your own good times and sanity. Despite your endearing love and loyalty for your buddy, at some point, you've got to let him work out the dating disasters on his own.

I have a close friend who I'll call "BOB." If someone asked me to compare my friends to "Sex and the City" stars, BOB would undoubtedly be Samatha. He's fun, extremely outgoing, attractive, and there are no holds barred (or men turned down) when the drinking starts.

This tale begins on a Saturday in January. After tossing down several Mambo Taxis--lethally strong margaritas mixed with sangria--at Mi Cocina, BOB, Neo, and I drive over to pick up Rocky, who is more of an acquaintance than a friend. BOB, as usual, is on a sex binge.

I ask, "So, crazy ass, who are you shacking with later?"

"I don't know. I kissed Vann last night at the party. Is he coming?"

"Yeah. He sent me a text asking about you. Oh, and ya'll did more than kiss. Your pants were off, remember?!"

BOB swerves around in his seat, gives me a sly grin, and says, "Really? Whatever. I didn't do sh*t."

Neo and I laugh. "Dude, you were mauling him on the couch."

BOB frowns, "Yeah, and he wouldn't take his pants off. Prude."

"Well, maybe he just wasn't as drunk as you were," I laugh.

"Whatever. I might hook up with Rocky anyway. And Brent is gonna be out-- Neo, turn here!" Luckily, Neo is more sober than the two of us, and he navigates the turn perfectly.

After picking up Rocky, we drive over to our favorite bar on the Strip. The beats are blaring, the beer is flowing, and I'm consumed with Neo, who I was sorta dating at the time. I totally lose track of BOB for a while. Then, out of no where, I feel a death grip on my shoulder. I spin around, and BOB is standing there with a Miller Lite in his hand and an urgent expression on his face.

"Matt, you've gotta help me out! Vann just walked in. Brent's here too! And Rocky has his hands all over me. Sh*t!" BOB is completely stressed about the entire situation, which makes me laugh.

"What do I need to do?"

"Vann thinks that I don't like him. Go talk to him. He'll listen to you."

I shake my head, grab my beer, and walk across the bar. There, I find Vann sulking in the corner.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"BOB isn't interested in me. I thought you said he liked me."

Are we in Junior High? Come on, man. I frown. "Of course he likes you. What makes you think that he doesn't?"

"He was hangin' on that Brent guy a few minutes ago."

I hadn't seen that. How should I cover? My mind races, and I know I've paused too long, so I just blurt something out. "Oh really? Well, that's nothing. He's a little drunk, that's all."

Vann perks up a little. "You think?"

He really bought that? "Of course. Come on, he's probably gettin' a drink right now. Let's find him."

Vann and I, now joined by Neo, trek through the mass of sweaty bodies towards BOB's favorite bartender. We round a corner, and Whoa! I suddenly stop in mid-stride, shocked.

There, in the middle of the bar, BOB is mugging down with Rocky. Everyone around them, including Brent, and now Vann, watch the pornorific display. Hands are grabbing, tongues are touching, and bodies are melded together. Some shady older guys behind BOB are getting turned on. Rocky and BOB finally break away as if nothing had happened. Rocky grabs his beers and walks in the opposite direction, and BOB, seeing me, struts over with a big smile on his face.

Then he sees Vann. For a fleeting moment, I see panic in his eyes. But BOB, a talented salesman by profession, is a true master of seduction.

After instantly donning a sexy grin, BOB looks at Vann and says, "Hey, where did you go, stud?"

Unfortunately, BOB's charms fail him this time. Vann just walks off, and I follow. I feel bad, like I set the poor guy up for failure. He agrees.

"Hey man, sorry about that," I say, still trailing him through the tight gauntlet of hard bodies.

He barely turns his head. "Whatever, man. Just don't try to set me up with your friends anymore."

Is he crying? I can't really tell.

I think about grabbing Vann's arm to stop him from walking away, but figure that any conversation tonight would be fruitless. So, my matchmaking reputation tarnished, I turn tail to search for Neo and BOB. Instead, I find Brent, who detains me for 30 minutes because he's mad as hell. I eventually escape.

Finally, as the drama-filled night draws to a close, I stumble upon Neo, who is leaning against the bar with a half-full beer in his hand. He's watching Rocky and BOB make out again. This time, no spectators are around. It's getting late, after all, and people are either trying to hook up or thinking about heading home. My head is pounding from the cheesy 80's music blasting on the dance floor.

"So, how has your night been?" Neo asks.

"Crazy. BOB owes me for this one."

Neo just laughs.

The next morning, when I drag the hungover, crazy-haired BOB to Einstein's and make him buy me a blueberry bagel with strawberry cream cheese, we recap the night. The drama seems hilarious now that it's over with, and we laugh about it for a good hour. Then, just as we are leaving, I get a text message from Vann.

Have you talked to BOB?

Remembering Vann's forelorn face, I suddenly want to crawl under a rock.

"This one's for you, BOB."

I hand him the phone, and he shakes his head.

The laughing over, I make a vow to stay out of the "courting" between BOB and his men. From here on out, BOB, and all my other friends for that matter, are on their own if they choose to juggle multiple guys.