Free Average American Male by Chad Kultgen

invite, right?”
    Casey says, “Of course.”
    Her friend says, “Great,” then she fake-whispers this next bit to Casey: “And don’t forget to let me know about the bachelorette party.”
    Casey fake-whispers back, “I won’t.”
    They hug and Casey says, “And don’t be a stranger, let’s get lunch sometime.”
    Her friend says, “Okay, I’ll give you a call. You kids behave.” Then she heads toward the escalators.
    Casey says, “Have we ever come to the Beverly Center and not run into someone we know? Seriously, it’s like everyone in town comes here on the weekends.”
    I start walking toward the Orange Julius/Dairy Queen without hearing what she just said. I remember in seventh grade home-ec class, Mrs. Baker taught us how to make Orange Julius with vanilla extract, orange juice, sugar, and ice. Mrs. Baker wasn’t particularly attractive but I would have fucked her.
    I buy a chocolate-dipped cone and Casey gets a small Julius. As we leave the counter I literally bump into Alyna, who is walking by with her arm around some asshole. A conversation is unavoidable and I’m sure it’s going to lead to the discovery of our date by both of our significant others. But I’m more worried about Alyna finding out I have a girlfriend.
    Alyna says, “Oh, hey. How are you?”
    “I’m fine, you?”
    “Pretty good.”
    “This is my boyfriend, Duane.”
    I fucking shake his hand. Casey gets tired of not being introduced and says, “I’m his fiancée, Casey. Nice to meet you guys.”
    Alyna shakes Casey’s hand and says, “Hi, I’m Alyna.” I can tell Alyna’s surprised. I feel worse than I should for never telling her about Casey. Even though I have no chance with her, for some reason I still don’t want her to be mad at me.
    Casey is jealous immediately. She says, “So how do you two know each other?”
    I kind of want to let it all out, expose the truth, see what happens.
    Alyna answers before I can say anything. She says, “I had a flat tire over in Westwood and your husband-to-be here helped me change it.”
    Holy shit. This is the most insane lie I’ve ever heard in my life.
    There’s no way either of our respective counterparts will swallow it.
    Casey says, “I didn’t know you knew how to change a tire.”
    I say, “Well, I do.”
    Casey says, “Huh. I’ll have to remember that,” then she laughs.
    Duane also laughs for some reason.
    Alyna says, “Well, you guys take it easy. We have some shopping to get to.”
    I say, “Yeah. You, too.”
    As they walk away, Alyna says, “It was good to see you again.”
    I say, “Yeah. You, too.”
    I try to convince myself that this was just a strange coincidence, that there was no greater purpose behind running into Alyna, that she isn’t thinking about me as she walks through the Beverly Center with Duane.
    Casey says, “You never told me you helped somebody change their tire. That’s a good story, why didn’t you tell me about that?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Do you want to go look at invitations or rings?”
    I want to turn around, chase after Alyna, and never have to hear Casey’s voice again. I say, “You pick.”

some chapter
    Internet Personals
    After downloading some double-dong lesbian pornography I check my e-mail. In my inbox is a message from Caligurrl669 with the following as a subject heading: “Saw you on match.com and thought you looked cute.”
    Despite having numerous profiles on different Internet personals sites for almost a year, this is the first e-mail response I’ve ever received.
    I open it.
    Caligurrl669 tells me that she thinks I look like Eric Stoltz, who is one of her favorite actors. She recently moved to Los Angeles from Ohio to become an actress. She loves the Cure and the Smiths. She doesn’t consider herself religious, but she is very spiritual. She has a dog and wants to know if I like animals. The last guy she dated was really into pro wrestling. She wasn’t. She wants to know if I’m really into