Every couple of months I meet up with a buddy of mine for beers. We’ve been doing it for years. Nothing fancy. We grab a pitcher, play a few games of pool, catch each other up on life, and then head our separate ways for another couple of months.

This last visit started a little differently.

I was just about to walk out the door when Annie stopped me.

“Wait.”

She disappeared for a moment, then came back holding an anal plug. The second I saw it, I knew exactly what she had planned.

I immediately started to complain.

“Really? I’m just going out for beers.”

She gave me that look that told me the discussion was already over.

So I did what I always do. I pulled my pants down, got everything ready, bent over, and let her put it in place. She gave it a satisfied little pat, told me to have a good time, I kissed her goodbye, and headed out.

The drive to the bar wasn’t bad. Sitting was a little awkward, but manageable. I figured once I was there, I’d forget about it.

I was wrong.

The plan had been simple. Beer. Pool. Conversation.

Turns out, playing pool while wearing a plug is not nearly as easy as it sounds.

Every shot meant bending over. Every step around the table reminded me it was there. Instead of concentrating on angles and cue control, I was concentrating on not looking like I was walking funny.

After a few minutes my buddy looked at me and said, “You’re really not into pool tonight. What’s going on?”

I tried to brush it off.

“Sore back.”

He didn’t buy it for a second.

Eventually I started laughing and admitted the truth.

“Dude… Annie made me wear a huge plug before I left the house. Until this thing comes out, I am not bending over a pool table. I’m convinced one good shot and I’ll pop it out, launch it across the room.”

He stared at me for about two seconds.

Then completely lost it.

I’m talking full-on laughing so hard he nearly spilled his beer.

“So that’s why you’ve been standing like that!”

Needless to say, we ordered another pitcher.

About an hour later my phone buzzed.

A text from Annie.

“You can take it out now.”

I excused myself, headed to the restroom, took care of business, sealed everything up in the little baggie I’d brought along, tucked it into my backpack, washed my hands, and came back feeling about a hundred percent more comfortable.

“Ready to play now?” my buddy asked with a grin.

“Yep.”

We finally played a game.

I lost.

Apparently being unplugged doesn’t improve my pool game nearly as much as I’d hoped.