The $20 Mistake

The fire filled the silence between the friends while the bourbon had begun loosening the edges of the evening.

Ross, who had been smiling a little during Chandler’s story, suddenly became aware of how tightly he was gripping his glass.

He loosened his hand.

Then he said, “I paid for sex once.”

Joey’s head popped up. Phoebe grinned.

“I didn’t mean to,” he added.

There was a pause.

Joey leaned forward. “That sounds like a terrible opening to a story.”

“It was.”

“Where?”

“Italy.”

That changed the expression on everyone’s face.

Italy was the sort of place people expected stories to begin well.

Wine. Architecture. Beautiful women. Beautiful men. Old churches. Long lunches.

Nobody expected Italy to end with twenty dollars and regret.

“It was an immersion trip over Spring Break in college. It was supposed to be a learning experience but we still treated it like Spring Break. Instead of lounging on the beach during the day, we roamed museums, but at night we hit the clubs. It’s easy to lose track of time in the strobing lights and sound. I think I lost five pounds of sweat while dancing.

“There is a particular kind of drunk in which a person can still walk in a straight line and therefore assumes he is making excellent decisions.

“I was in that condition.

“Me and another American had left the club together. A little too loudly I started yelling about wanting to get my dick wet. I think the exact phrase was ‘Where are the Italian bitches at!?’

“Some guy approached us. He seemed nice enough—at least he spoke some English. He told us about a party. We followed him.

“Obviously we knew it was a dumb idea, but it could’ve been a great idea depending on the result.

“We followed him into a building. There was no party. There was a kitchen.

There were two men sitting at a table. Two big greasy guys.

There was a woman in another room.

The two men acted like they spoke no English.

“We knew we had fucked up, but we couldn’t just back out of the door. I tried, but I’m not good with charades.

“My friend went into the bedroom first.

I just stood awkwardly in the kitchen. No chair was offered. The two men didn’t even speak, just sat silently. Any time I neared the exit, they straightened.

“Longest ten minutes of my life before my friend came out of the bedroom sporting a goofy grin.

“I did not see the humor. We were basically being held hostage.

“The two men looked at me. One nodded toward the bedroom.

“‘No,’ I said. I wasn’t going to be forced to do this.

“They looked at me. No words.

“I shook my head again, ‘No.’

“One smiled like this is what he had been waiting for: an opportunity to do the fun part of his job.

“Before he could stand up I scampered into the bedroom. The woman looked at me. She was not smiling. A woman at the end of her shift who just wanted to clock out. Dark hair tied up out of her face. The makeup couldn’t hide how tired she was.

“I knew she didn’t want to this. I thought I had an out so I began explaining that I didn’t want to do this. It was all a mistake.

‘I’m sorry. I don’t want to have sex. I just want to leave.”

“She just sat there saying nothing. The most wild excuse popped into my head and I said, ‘I’m gay.’

“That raised her eyebrows. There was a pause. Then, in her accent, she said, “Blowjob twenty. No blowjob fifty.”

“I stared at her. I only had twenty dollars. It’s like she could look into my pocket and see.

“I didn’t want to get the shit kicked out of me because I didn’t have an extra thirty dollars, so I went through with it.

“Fear and frustration doesn’t get me hard. I had her take her top off. She let me grope her tits. Once I was manageable hard, so rolled a condom onto my dick. Her mouth sucked up and down the latex. I’ve had better blowjobs. Then she surprised me by sticking a finger up my ass and massaging his prostate. My half chub became solid steel. The finger felt better than the blowjob. She replaced her lips with her hand and stroked me.

“I looked down at her jiggling tits and tried to coat them. I ended up just filling the condom.

“I had never felt so dirty in my life handing her the $20 bill.

“There was no time to process it. No shower. No bed. As done as we got back to the hotel, we were rushed off to a guided tour. I could smell the latex on me the entire day. I didn’t tell anyone about it. Just another drunk secret.”

The fire had gone almost completely silent.

Ross took a drink.

Rachel had not moved. She was watching her husband. Ross looked at her. For just a second, something passed between them. Not recognition. Not exactly. More like confirmation.

Then Rachel looked back toward the fire.

Ross smiled. “Well,” he said, “that’s my twenty-dollar story.”

Joey shook his head slowly. “You’ve got the worst vacation stories.”

Ross laughed. “I’ve had worse. Don’t get me started on our honeymoon.”