"Ask her," said one of the 21-but-just-barely trio of boys sitting on our patio. We were the four of us alone, me emptying ashtrays, them discussing something apparently clandestine.
"Ask me what?" I vollied. They started stammering, and the gentleman in question said, "Nevermind."
"No, seriously," said I as I sat down and crossed my legs, knowing this could go anywhere from asking me when the term "blog" was first used (around 1994) to where to eat that night (Freebirds, 7-11, or there's a 24-7 Ralph's down the street) to my preferred sexual position (it varies). "What is it?"
And then we had When Not To Have Sex Talk.
Don't have sex to make someone fall in love with you.
Don't have sex for revenge.
Don't have sex if you don't know the middle name of your sexual partner (this came across as prudish on my part, but I'm sticking to it as a bare minimum of information I need from someone with whom I could conceivably conceive).
Since they had my attention, the went on: how do you ask a girl if she's clean? Fortunately, I had recently had this conversation with Kristie and found her advice useful:
"You just have to ask. Maybe not in the heat of the moment, because people will lie, but sometime leading up to that point, just point blank, when's the last time you were tested, were you clean, have you had sex since then. If you can't have that conversation, you two shouldn't be having sex. And wear a fucking condom, boys, always always always. It's NEVER worth it."
I had to get back to work, and that was that. Bartender, bookkeeper, guidance counselor: I wear many hats during the day.