Is Claire right? Does Drew think I’ve changed and doesn’t know how to act around me anymore?
“I feel like we’ve grown so far apart and I hate it. It’s like we don’t even know each other. It’s the worse feeling in the world.”
Claire pats my back as she finishes placing her items on the counter next to mine.
“You guys absolutely still know each other. Even though it doesn’t feel like it, he’s still your best friend and the one person who knows everything about you. It’s a rough patch. Couples have them and if they are strong enough, they work through them. You guys are strong enough. You just have to get on the same page.”
Gavin bounces past us with an umbrella in one hand, swinging it through the air and smacking it into hanging racks of clothes, knocking some to the ground. Now he has a blue bra strapped to the top of his head like the guys in the movie ‘Weird Science’.
“Oh my God, I just had the best idea ever!” Liz shouts as she yanks the umbrella out of Gavin’s hand and pulls the bra off of his head while Gavin lets out a groan of protest.
“Seriously, dude. I’m saving your life right now. Your mom already has a picture of you with women’s underwear on your head. Do you really want to try and get laid in high school when there’s a picture of you with a bra on your head too? I just saved your social life. Tell Auntie Liz thank you,” she tells him as she tosses the bra onto a table and leans the umbrella against another.
“I know what getting laid means. Dad told me and it’s gross. I’m never doing that,” Gavin complains.
“Wait, let me get my video camera out,” Claire states as she digs in her purse again for her cell phone. “Say that again, slowly.”
“Mommy, I wanna laid!” Veronica shouts from the stroller.
“Me too! I wanna laid! I wanna strawberry laid!” Molly screams in delight.
“This is disturbing, and yet funny at the same time,” Liz states. “Anyway, back to my fantastic idea!”
Claire and I finish paying our bills and attempt to quiet the girls screaming about wanting laid, using bribery of candy as a last resort.
“Okay, what’s this great idea,” Claire asks as we make our way out of the store.
“Well, you feel like you and Drew have grown apart and don’t really know each other anymore, correct?” she asks me.
“Yeah,” I say sadly.
“Do you guys remember that old game show 'The Newlywed Game' from like the seventies?”
Claire nods and gets a huge smile on her face. “Oh my gosh, Liz, you are a genius! That is the best idea ever.”
I look at them questioningly as we walk towards the food court.
“I don’t understand. We’re not newlyweds. How is this going to help us? Do we have to get married again or something? I don’t know if I’ll be able to fit into my wedding outfit again if that’s the case.”
“Your wedding outfit was a white tube top, a pair of white boy shorts and white thigh-high stockings. I’m pretty sure anyone could fit into your wedding outfit,” Liz states as we find a table and try to figure out what the kids want for lunch. “No, there is no remarrying that needs to happen. 'The Newlywed Game' is answering questions about yourself and seeing if your partner gets them right. It’s a great way to see how compatible two people are.”
This sounds scary. Drew and I always used to know each other well but not lately. What if we completely blow this game and it only makes things worse between us?
“I don’t know guys. What if he gets every single question wrong? That’s just going to depress me more,” I tell them.
“Trust me, this will work. You will see once and for all that you and Drew have not grown apart as much as you think,” Liz tells me.
“This is going to be so fun! I’m officially scheduling a game night for two weeks from now,” Claire announces.
“Clear your schedules and get sitters. This is an ‘adult only’ night,” Liz adds.
We get lunch for ourselves and the kids and discuss how the game will work while we eat. I don’t know whether I’m nervous or excited. I just hope this whole thing doesn’t throw up in my face.
Chapter 23 – Zombie Apocalypse
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Jim states nervously.
“Don’t be a pussy. This is the best idea ever. If the girls can do it and live through it, so can we. Do you really want your wife to go around telling people she did this before you? Get your balls out of her purse and man up,” I tell Jim.
Liz is at a meeting with her buyer and left Jim in charge of the store for a few hours before we have to be at work. Not a very wise decision on her part considering the last time she left Jim alone at the store, we rearranged her front window display with naked female mannequins having an orgy. So really, whatever happens here this evening is Liz’s fault for trusting Jim to behave.
Carter had mentioned the other night how he’s never been maced and we found out that none of us had. It’s embarrassing that all of our wives have been through something horrific like that and we haven’t. So, I devised a plan. An evil, genius plan.
“Alright, there’s no one back in the porn room. Who’s going to do the honors?” Carter asks as he emerges from the hallway next to the counter.
Two years ago, Liz installed a porno room in her store. The shelves are lined with every porno movie known to man. To avoid people stealing them and to stop any embarrassment of some poor, lonely librarian having to carry the movie box out in front of other people so everyone in the store knows she likes midget donkey sex, the DVD cases are empty and each one is assigned a three-digit number. If anyone wants to buy one, they just have to come up to the front counter and tell the cashier what number they want. Instead of saying, “I’d like to buy ‘Dickman and Throbbinhood’,” they can just say, “Could I get number four-twenty-three, please?”
Since neither Carter nor Jim want to actually get maced in the face, we decide to spray some mace in the small porno room where it will be easily contained. Then, we can just walk in there and see how we’re affected. We never really have to tell anyone how we were maced; we can just tell people from now on that we have “experience” with being maced. It’s kind of perfect if I do say so myself.
It’s sad, really, that I can’t find a good macing shirt for the occasion. Instead, I had to settle for my backup for emergency situations: I’m full of awesome.
“Shouldn’t we wait until the store closes?” Jim asks, looking nervously at the door.
“Your wife will be back before the store closes. We need to do this shit now,” I tell him, grabbing the industrial size can of mace from under the counter. “The girls were out of commission for what, twenty minutes or so? And they were sprayed directly in the eyes. Since we’re just going to be standing in a room where it’s lingering in the air, we’re probably only going to get a small percentage of what they got. We’ll be fine. Even if a customer does come in, they'll have no idea what’s going on.”
Jim taps his fingers on the counter, looks over at the door again, and then down at his watch. “Okay, fine. Let’s hurry up and get this over with in case Liz comes back early.”
Carter and I let out a victory yell, and I hand him the can to let him do the spraying.
“Go ahead man, just open the door a crack, spray as much as you can, and shut it really quickly,” I explain.
Carter takes the can, gives me a salute, and turns and jogs down the hallway.
As soon as he leaves, the bell above the door rings and Jim and I turn around and see three women walk in the door.
“Shit, customers. What the fuck do we do?” Jim whispers frantically.
“Relax. It’s contained in the back room. We just wait on them like normal and then go back there. If the mace all faded away, Carter can just spray it again,” I tell him.