The Best Man

By: Barbie Bohrman

To Christian,
So proud of the man you’re becoming.
Love you to the moon and back.
Always, Mom
Nine years ago...
God, I loved New York in the spring!
It had always been my favorite time of year.
The days grew longer, the nights warmer, and most importantly, the clothing choices for gorgeous women everywhere in sight became more and more minimalistic.
I loved women.
Scratch that. I adored women.
I’m a firm believer that the female form and all its glory should be revered in every way possible. And what better way was there to worship these gorgeous creatures than to have less clothing blocking my field of vision and admiration? It just made everything easier for everyone involved.
Me specifically.
I suppose you could call me a ladies’ man. My buddies did and had often asked me for advice about the opposite sex. My fraternity brothers nicknamed me “The Conqueror” because I would always be able to conquer the least likely of conquests. It was all in the approach...and the key was being very, very patient. Case in point, that time I finally fucked Tallulah Reynolds after a whole semester of working on it.
Tallulah was something of an enigma in the beginning. She seemed not in the least bit interested in me, which in and of itself was unbelievable. But after paying closer attention, I learned she was indifferent toward all men on campus. Since the beginning of our sophomore year, the rumor had been that she was a lesbian. Which of course would be the rumor because no other guy on campus could get the job done. And trust me, all guys on campus wanted Tallulah. She was a walking-and-talking wet dream with her unassuming sexy-librarian look making every guy within a two-mile radius stand up and take attention.
So I waited her out.
And I studied. Not in a stalker way, of course. I simply paid attention to her and the details when I could and took careful mental notes so that when the time was right, I could swoop in and make my move. See, that’s the part that most guys weren’t willing to incorporate into their wheelhouse: the waiting and the studying. Because with Tallulah, it paid off in spades when I “accidentally” bumped into her at a Jackie Chan double feature in some tiny-ass movie theater in the West Village. Naturally, by that point I was well aware of her Jackie Chan obsession. So I made it my business to become well versed on the subject of Jackie Chan. For example, did you know that he jumped out of a freaking plane and landed onto a hot-air balloon once? Or that he not only kicked ass for a living, but he was a singer and had recorded something like twenty records that went platinum or some shit like that. And my personal favorite, after a fight at a bar, he spent a couple of days trying to push a bone in his finger back into place only to realize that it was the other dude’s tooth embedded under his skin. Seriously, the guy was a badass.
But, I digress.
Tallulah spotted me leaving the theater as the double feature was coming to a close. What she didn’t know was that I had strategically placed myself in her peripheral to ensure she would be the one to notice me first. Next thing I knew, we got to talking. Small pleasantries at first, and then the ol’ I had no idea you were a Jackie Chan fan too conversation. After that, I asked her to accompany me to grab a quick bite to eat and made sure to emphasize that it was not a dinner date at all. “Just two people who loved Jackie Chan sharing a meal.” Because, you know, we all had to eat at some point, why not do it together? A few hours later I was thanking the good Lord and Jackie Chan for the debauchery that went on until dawn. I would have never pegged Tallulah as the dirty type, but there it was. She begged me repeatedly for my cock. I obliged. She sucked it, fucked it, and she loved every second of it judging by the way she was passed out with exhaustion as I tiptoed out of her dorm room the next morning.
I celebrated my conquest of Tallulah with sleeping in the rest of the day and then followed that up with a few stellar rounds of beer pong with my fraternity brothers. They thought I was the shit. I didn’t correct them.
Obviously, men think highly of me. I mean, who could blame them really. But women? Women, in general, did not endear themselves to me as much. They tended to call me asshole, dickhead, scumbag, and a whole bunch of other names that I would rather not dignify at the moment. They do this because I do not and will not ever embrace the monogamous liestyle. Yes, I said liestyle, because monogamy is a lie. It’s a travesty, actually. Why in God’s name would you want to tie yourself down to one woman when there were so many of them just waiting for the right me.