-Quisling-

I mentioned earlier that my cousin and I 'mostly' failed to connect with any of his friends and coworkers after we left his establishment. This is true; the two we did meet later were only coming in as we were leaving.

To be friendly, we stayed long enough for one more round.

The two female friends of my cousin hadn't come alone. They now had a drunk ex-marine in tow. I know he was a marine because he shouted that he was as he tried to crush my hand. Then he added with much pride that he was also an HVAC technician.

And, then, remarkably, all the tumbles in all the locks in my brain aligned. For the next half hour, I was loquacious and witty and uninhibited. The Red Bull helped, but I think it was just one of those miraculous moments you can't create with chemicals or training. I had the women laughing, and the marine confused. Soon, he was Semper Flea, pretending to laugh with us so we wouldn't think he wasn't getting the joke. Completely disarmed.

In victory, I desired a prize to commemorate the occasion, and also to push my brief social skills to the hilt. I asked for the one woman's e-mail address (not the woman hanging on the marine, I'm not suicidal) not because I really though we had anything in common. The contact info symbolized success, a wreath of laurels for taming the beast.

I got it. This may seem insignificant, but it was an incredible high. I wanted to share the story of the taming of the hoo-ah. (Army, not Marine, I know. Go with me on this.)

As we were leaving my cousin pulled me aside and told me not to contact that girl.
I think my face fell. Had I committed some horrible faux pas that I wasn't aware of?

Earlier, he told me, her friend had pulled him aside and warned him that this woman was flirting with his cousin.

You don't want to contact her, he said. Her friend tells me that she has two children by two different fathers, and that she has a stinky vag-

WHAAAA?

Apologies for that, everyone, but I kid you not, those were his words, which he claims are her words. Where do we begin to process everything wrong with that statement? Are these the kind of things friend are supposed to say about each other behind each other's backs?

I didn't email her, of course. Far better for both of us if we don't try even to be friends, with that awful sentence hanging over our heads. But what gets to me, what keeps me thinking about this scene over and over again, is the perfidy of the friend.