“I’m telling you, it was the best date of my life,” Billy boasted. “She was gorgeous; had this glow to her like a goddess statue or some shit, unlike any other ghost I ever took out. I’m telling you, it was the best date ever.”
Mason hovered quietly, allowing Billy to divulge the details of the best date ever. He tried to keep his lips in a neutral line, although the corners fought to unfurl.
“She just sat there, right? Just sat there at the table. Didn’t even order anything, cheapest date ever. She just sat there and let me tell her all about my days in the service.” Billy paused to send snot shooting from where his nose once jutted. “Couldn’t get her to come home with me, though. Probably for the best, don’t like to overwhelm the ladies on the first date.” Billy perversely circled his pelvis, causing Mason’s manhood to fall limp.
The afterlife hasn’t refined him one bit, Mason thought disgustedly.
“Christ, she was the best date ever. Shoulda seen the looks we was gettin’, me and that broad. Every dude in that place was taking a bus trip across her with their eyes, man, like she was the freakin’ Eiffel Tower or some shit. And she was there with ME.” Mason puffed out his chest and hitched his thumb at himself. “I owe you one, Mason old pal. Where did you find her anyway?”
“Downtown, 6th and Maple,” Mason replied.
“Oh, that old party store?” Billy deduced, sucking on the tip of a Slim Jim. “Can’t go wrong picking up a chick at the freakin’ party store, am I right?”
Mason nodded. It wasn’t really a lie. That’s where he purchased the clinquant, full-bodied Mylar balloon which he later tied to the chair at Chez Jizz, minutes before Billy’s arrival.
“I’m gonna bang her tonight, old friend, I can just feel it,” Mason predicted on the coattails of a processed-meat belch.
“Oh, I’m sure it will be quite the bang,” Mason agreed.