I never finished, he said. Came close. Thought I would. But no. Never done. He lit a cigarette. It’s not easy, he told him. At first, you think it’ll be easy, then midway through it gets tougher, harder to make a move. You’re stuck. He sucked on a beer.

What do you mean? his friend asked.  How difficult could it be, Dwayne? Either you hold the ropes, or she does. Or both of you hold them. Dwayne started laughing.

You don’t know anything about women. Do you, Ricky? You talk in fantasy terms. Something you’d hear on television. A talk show. Maybe a sitcom.  They want it two ways. Either you’re in charge, or they are. And if you’re not in charge, then it’s hell.

Yeah. I could see that. Ricky adjusted his hat and ordered two more shots and beers. Maybe this ain’t for me to say, but then again.

Well. Come on with it.

Maybe you should have held on a little longer. Tried to work things out. Is it too late?

It’s always too late. Dwayne took a long drink of beer and followed it with his shot. One of these days, you’ll be in the cage. Fighting to get out. Or sitting in a corner. Suffering. 

Nah. Not me. I see the effects it has on men.

Don’t you get lonely? Ricky shook his head slowly. I know I do.