A while back, a buddy of mine met me at a bar, which I was leaving promptly after being taken back that they serve alcohol and not sarsaparillas (as I had thought).  We sat down at the bar and talked about life, love, women, and work.  Now I have never been accused of being short of breath when it comes to these topics, so I sat down and explained what I could to him.

            However, one thing caught me off guard.  He was dating some “girls” and needed advice.  Never having been a cheater or brave enough to date more than one girl at a time, I did my best to enlighten him of his error. 

Note: To preserve confidentiality I will not use his real name. 

            As I do not drink alcohol (much), we were sitting at the bar with our mugs full of high octane coca-cola, freshly poured of course, and as the barmaid walked away Billy leaned over his mug and sadly said to me, "Jonathan, I need advice about my girlfriends."

            "Girlfriends?"  I asked questionably.

            "Yeah," was his response.

            "How many girlfriends do you have?"  I asked him in concern.  "You know it only takes one to ruin your life."

            He took a second glance at me, as if he were astonished that I would think such a thing. "Well honestly, one has just never been enough," he said.  "They always have stuff to do and I just like to have women around all the time to keep me warm.  So I have three girlfriends."

            "Three!"  I said in disbelief.  "No wonder your house is always so clean.  So what's your question(s)?"

            He sat there pondering his question so that it came out the correct way and after a moment responded, “Well, I think the first one, Sally, is starting to get suspicious of the other two.  She came in the other day and told me that she was impressed with how I kept my house so clean.  She also noticed that my refrigerator was stocked with food instead of beer.  I tried to convince her that I had a life changing experience at work with an exploding beer can, but she was not buying it.  I just don't know how to convince her that there isn't another girl."

            I could tell Billy was in deep trouble.  It is one thing to risk your sanity having one girlfriend, but he had three.  I was concerned with how these relationships would play out should Sally find out about the other two, so I racked my brain and tried to come up with a clever way to help my love stricken friend out.  “Well it seems you are in a predicament, but to your best knowledge there is no other ‘girl’ right?  There are two.  Do you think she would be alright if you had two girls on the side?”  I asked him.  Now Billy knows me better than most and knows that I like to kid around, but I had asked him this question in all seriousness.   

                “Be serious Jon,” Bill said to me justly.  “If she’s not ok with one, I highly doubt she’ll be ok with two.”   

                I had thought that my response would have solved the problem, so his response sent me into deeper wonderment.  For a second I was worried that I would not be able to help my friend out and that he would surely wind up on the show “Cops” or worse “Channel 3 News.”  I took another sip of my potent coca-cola and then had a brilliant idea.  If he could somehow trash his house before Sally came over, this might clear her mind and get him off the hook.

                “Do you still keep all your waste oil in your garage?” I asked him quizzically.

                “Yeah,” he responded.  “But I don’t see how that has to do with any of this.”

                “And what about those empty beers cans you had in your bathroom under the sink.  The ones you said you kept in case someone challenged you to an archery competition.”

                “Yeah I do Jon, but what does any of this have to do with situation at hand?” Bill asked me dumbfounded.

                In my most serious tone of voice and straightest face, I revealed to him my plan.  “Well the next time Sally comes over, take those beers cans and place them throughout your trailer in sporadic places.  Then undo your bed and throw your pillows on the floor.  Take the waste oil and smear it on your hands, and rub them all over your shower walls and curtains.  Go grab some dirt from your pile of reusable dirt and sprinkle it on your carpet and in your kitchen.  Make sure you grind it in with your shoes so that it looks like you actually brought it in on your shoes and didn’t just dump it there.  By doing all this, you will without a doubt make her believe that there is no other woman, or 'women' in your case.”

                Billy almost hugged me as I finished unraveling my plan to him, but because it is unconventional for guys to hug at a bar, he withheld himself from committing such an act of school-girlishness.

                “That is the greatest plan I ever heard!” he exclaimed with joy that would rival a kid who got what they wanted for Christmas.  “I have a ‘cooking date’ with her on Friday, I’ll make sure the house looks like a disaster.”

                A few weeks later, I ran into Billy at the local Wal-Mart. 

                Long lost friends can always be reunited at Wal-Mart.  We usually find each other in the hunting and fishing sections, because, well, where else do men go in such a place? Guys can’t be seen anywhere else in Wal-Mart or else a store clerk will certainly ask,”Sir, do you need help finding anything?”  If you don’t believe me, ask your wife/girlfriend(s) if they ever get asked if they need help in the produce section.

                Billy looked depressed as he scavenged through the shot-gun shells.  It was the beginning of hunting season so both of us had to stock up on ammo.  As he sorted through the Winchester shells and the Remington shells I asked him, “What seems to be the problem?”

                “I don’t know what to do,” he said gloomily.

                “Well I find that Winchester shells have more of a kick to them, but if you have the right shot-gun it won’t matter much.  But the Remington shells are a little cheaper.”

                “Not that,” he moped.  “Sally left me.”

                “Well that’s no good Billy,” I said concerned, also wondering what episode of “Cops” I would see him on.  “Didn’t you do what I told you to?”

                “I did,” he said pathetically.  “But she came over Monday too, and was upset that I had ruined the house yet again.  I tried to tell her that I was meaning to clean it up and that she didn’t have to, but she said she couldn’t date a pig any longer and walked out.”

                “Well Billy,” I said, “Have you paid your heating bill lately?”

                “I believe I paid it last week; why?”

                “Well from what I see Billy,” I told him, “you just lost one-third of your heating supply.  To make up for that you might have to turn your heat up a little.”

                “Well I was thinking about trying to find another girlfriend…Or two.”

                “Now that’s not energy efficient,” I told him.  “Think about all the hard work you’ll have to do to keep them satisfied.  And on top of that, you’ll have to get rid of all those empty beer cans to properly impress the new-comers.”

                “Yeah, but if I don’t, I’m afraid it’s going to be a cold winter,” he said gloomily.

                We parted ways at the knife section, because men like us already have enough knives, so there is no need to look through the less than ‘quality’ knives Wal-Mart has, and I strolled through the Garden section on my way out.  You see, real ‘guys’ park outside the Garden section, so that if we do have to go to the other part of Wal-Mart, we can say we got lost.  I got in my car and drove home.

                On the drive home I could not help but think of poor Billy and the drastic situation he was in.  I wanted to be able to help him out, but I can hardly be the one for this type of advice since I have trouble keeping one girlfriend.

                When I got home I checked to make sure my energy bill was paid off and that I had plenty of firewood.  After all , if Billy was concerned about being cold with two girlfriends, how did I expect to stay warm with one?