Ervill and I are at Mullek's throwing back our third round of salty dogs when Rachel Ray comes on the tee-vee.
"She's on the Butt List," I say.
"The Butt List? What the hell is that?" Ervill asks.
"Well, y'know how some couples, they each got this list of famous people that if by some chance either them ever meets, they get to do 'em? No questions asked? Same thing. Only mine's the Butt List."
"Why you call it that?"
"Cuz a while back I told the ol' lady all about hate-sex. She was a little fuzzy on the whole concept. Couldn't quite figure out how hate and sex went together. Little later on Rachel Ray's face pops up, and the ol' lady knows how much I hate her, so it's a good opportunity to put the hate-sex thing into context."
"She figure it out?"
"Oh yeah. Especially when I told her it would be in the butt. Then she really got the point. Even said it would be okay with her if I did it. There wouldn't be any emotional attachment at all. Well, except for hatred. I guess that's an emotion."
"And now you got a list?"
I tap my head. "Yeah, it's all up here, and she don't mind it at all. She knows it's pretty unlikely I'll ever meet any of the ladies on the list, but she also understands that if I do I get to at least try to check them off."
"Seems fair to me."
"It's not just fair, it's righteous."
We each order another salty dog. By now that commercial with that obnoxious chick with funky eyeshadow who gets way too excited about the deals people are getting on car insurance is on.
"She's on the list too."