“Enough! Why the hell do you care who has the room first? You each get a turn.”
We all stare at Bedo like he’s stupid. How he can know us so well and be clueless in this moment? Bedo bugs his eyes and throws his hands up in frustration. Is our manager really that clueless about the male species? It’s only then Austin fills him in.
“Sex sheets.”
“Huh?” Bedo’s face crinkles with puzzlement.
“We’re all gonna use that room to get laid. First person gets the clean sheets. Second person gets to sleep on his bro’s jizz. Last person gets it all. And I don’t want to sleep on my friends’ jizz,” Austin states matter of factly. Sean and I nod our agreement.
Bedo shuts his eyes and inhales deeply. We wait for him to acknowledge his goof, but when he blows out his breath, his eyes snap open with irritation. “You idiots think we won’t launder your sheets?”
“No offense man, but there’d be residual evidence. I watch CSI.” Austin crosses his arms over his chest.
“Fuck! I’ll buy you each your own set if you’ll act like fucking grownups for once.” He shakes his head and mutters, “I’m too old for this shit.”
“Sorry, Bedo. We’ll work out the schedule,” I say before he yells at us any more.
Sean mouths, “I’m first,” from behind Bedo’s seat.
I give a little shake of my head so he understands this isn’t the time, and also that there’s no way I’m giving up that easily.
“Bedo!” Danny, our driver, calls out and then steps inside the bus. “Someone from the city is outside. They want to see permits.”
“Coming,” Bedo says before Danny disappears outside again. “Now I’m going to deal with anactualproblem. And when we leave in two hours, I expect you’ll have worked out a schedule with the room and are prepared to focus on this tour.” He leaves us with one last glare before exiting the bus.
“So, how we going to work this out? ’Cause I want to unpack before Iz gets here and smuggles his shit into one of the cubbies.” Austin sits in Bedo’s vacant spot and steeples his fingers on the tabletop.
“We’re going to settle this the same way we resolve all major decisions,” I say, because really, any other way would only result in another argument.
“Fuck.” Sean groans and rubs his belly. “I don’t know if I have it in me. I just woke up an hour ago.”
“You’d better rally, Sleeping Beauty.” I stand and slap the table. “Wing Challenge waits for no one!”
When we first got together we learned really quick that with four band members we could never agree on anything without hurt feelings messing up our band juju, so we came up with the Wing Challenge. It’s simple and efficient. Order wings and eat until you can’t handle the heat. The last man standing, or rather still eating without puking, wins.
Austin glances up from his phone. “There’s a Wingstop a five-minute walk from here.”
“That’ll do. Let’s go.” I turn and stroll toward the door.
“I think I’m with Bedo. I’m getting too old for this shit,” Sean grumbles and follows behind.
“Come on, Sean,” Austin says. “Don’t wuss out. Some things just never change. And for Three Ugly Guys, we lay important decisions at the mercy of the holy habanero.”
“Halleluiah, brother!” I shout before taking the last step and pulling my shades down to shield them from the California morning glare. Yeah, we might act like adolescents, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. For the luxury of a private room and clean sheets, I’m more than prepared to burn my tongue.
