. Lots of .

Well, where do most people go after being dumped? To the bar, of course! The best way to get something off your mind is to get EVERYTHING off your mind. Unfortunatly, you don't have any here and the store is too far away.

Thankfully, you know just the guys to go to. You quickly slip out through the front door and hurry across the hall. You can hear Deep Purple blaring from the stereo and, taking a deep breath, you knock loudly on the door. Within moments the door opens up and a cloud of pot smoke obscures your view. You'd been expecting it and held your breath. Out of the white cloud, a tall guy with sunglasses and a full beard appears, his dreadlocks bobbing wildly. The music swells in the background. "Smooooooke...on the waaaaaater!" The guy belts out, horribly off-key. He begins to play air-guitar for a short amount of time before finally greeting you. "Hey, Jack-man. What's the news?"

"Hey Scott. Is Dirk in that fog somewhere?"

"Oh yeah, oh yeah." Scott nodded vigerously. He holds up a rolled joint. "We're about to finish this J, then watch Scent of a Woman. You in?"

"Not now, Scott." You say, hoping to move on. But your curiosity gets the better of you. "...Why Scent of a Woman?"

"What? You've never seen Scent of a Woman on weed before?" Scott asks incredulously.

"Can't say I have." You reply.

"That's a shame, dude. That's the way to see it. Besides, Dirk's a real Al Pacino fan." He shakes his head then shrugs. "So what can I do for you?"

"I need something to drink." You say.

"Oh, right on." Scott nodded smiling. "Party for one...I got ya. What's your poison, my man?"

"Actually I'm looking for something that will help make a girl relax." You say.

"Whoa, Jack-man." Scott said, lowering his shades so his blood-shot eyes could look into yours. "I always thought you were kinda a ladykiller, y'know? Didn't need to rely on gettin' 'em drunk."

"That's not it." You sigh. "Melody got dumped hard tonight and I'm trying to cheer her up."

"Oh, that's harsh." Scott sighed. "You give her my condolences." A smile crept back onto his face. "Does that mean you're going to be putting on the moves tonight?"

"What?" You sputter, almost **** on the air you're holding.

"You know, going in for the kill? Gonna make her yours and all that jazz?"

"How did...what are you..." You stutter, trying to figure out how Scott knew about your crush. He just laughs.

"Man, you say all sorts of crazy shit when you're drunk, y'know?" Scott smiles. "And in that case, I know just what you need. Dirk! Bring me the C40!" A few minutes later, a hand appeared out of the smog with a bottle. "Ah, here we go. Just what you need to get the night going."

"Chardonnay?" You ask. "Scott, she just got dumped. We're not celebrating here. I'm trying to comfort her. Besides, Melody isn't exactly a fancy **** drinker...she's used to beers."

"Look. You two share a bottle of wine and you will find that by the end she will be very comforted." He hands you the bottle. "Plus, and this is just in case, nothing is more romantic than a bottle of fine wine, eh?"

"I don't know..."

"Trust me Jack-man. If there's one thing I know, it's how to mix women and ****. And how to clean bong resin. And how to choose a good Cheech and Chong movie."

"I get it." You nod with a sigh. "Okay, I'll go with your wisdom, Scott. How much do I owe you?"

"It's on the house." Scott said, shaking his head. "Consider it a good luck gift. Just next time we get together to play foozeball, you bring the munchies, okay?"

"Sure thing. Thanks Scott." You take the bottle and return to your own room. You step inside and you can hear Melody fiddling around in the bathroom. You set the bottle down and take a deep breath. Wine and a massage...so much for a simple, friendly evening.

Melody steps out of the bathroom in a white bathrobe, combing her hair. She smiles at you and sticks her tongue out teasingly. "So...am I going to get the massage?" You nod, silently going over a mental quandry. Do you drink then do the massage or vise versa?