So a Jew and two Irish Catholics sit on a couch

At the suggestion of my dear friends, I hosted Cocktoberfest last night. Dare I say it? It was a success. Complete with a motley crew of good people (well, perhaps two questionable), a pumpkin with a dick carved out of it (Thank you John and Nicole!), a fine meatloaf, a good cheese dip and a shocking quantity of hard lemonade consumption, the night ended at 5:12 a.m.

It had begun to wind down around 1:30amish when everyone departed, leaving me with my OrthoJew friend Barry and the rather attractive Brian. I sat in the middle of my couch, with a man on either side. Brian suggested we watch Casablanca with the lights off. Happily stumbling to the dvd, I realized my apartment now possessed the ambience one's home can only achieve by the flickering light of the Cock'o'Lantern. And yet Barry stayed. He dozed off a couple times and I gently suggested perhaps it was time for him to go home. No, no, I'm fine, he said. Being drunk and tired, I started to fade about 23 minutes into Casablanca. So we watched an old and very good episode of SNL, complete with Michael McKeon (sp?), Adam Sandler and Laura Kightlinger. Barry found none of this amusing. And yet he stayed. I was getting aroused by my shoulder touching the lovely Brian's at this point. Have I mentioned that Barry introduced me to Brian three days ago and I said to Barry, Please hook me up with a piece of that?

At 4:48am, Barry finally left. The lovely Brian went to the bathroom, put his shoes on and started to make the I'm leaving noises. Some desperate lonely part of me had hoped that, immediately upon Barry's departure we'd ravage each other like prom dates in the back of Dad's Caprice Classic but the drunker part of me realized Blocktoberfest had taken hold and perhaps the magic had passed. We laughed about it, talked for a bit and then he kissed me good night. He smelled good. I apparently smelled good. Apparently both my apartment and I are cute. The kissing and the holding and the hairtouching . . .it was all there and very gentlemanly as well. And then, I felt it. The bile-like saliva and its fiery heat in the back of my throat. And I knew it was coming. I immediately hurried the now-confused Brian out as quickly as possible. I made an excuse about it being late, closed the door and vomited heartily.

Somehow it seemed a fitting ending to the tail end of Cocktoberfest.