Mike Biggs: For her it's one night, but Harry's gonna be prepping for days. Going to every big-and-tall shop looking for a shirt that's hip, sexy, and doesn't look like someone's tenting for termites.
Molly Flynn: This isn't just about Harry, is it?
Mike Biggs: Her name was Betsy Zajko. I was a sophmore and she was a senior. I'd just made third-string center on the football team so I was feeling pretty good about myself.
Molly Flynn: Whiskey?
Mike Biggs: Please.
[Molly hands a glass to Mike and pours]
Mike Biggs: Anyway, the summer before, her boyfriend had been killed in a dirt-bike accident, so she was vulnerable and most of the guys in her league were feeling a little gun-shy.
Molly Flynn: Understandable.
Mike Biggs: I mustered up the courage to ask her out, and to my amazement, she said, "Yes." I showed up to the dance with a new shirt, corduroy vest, and a pair of my dad's dress khakis.
Molly Flynn: Ooh. Hello, sexy.
Mike Biggs: Molly, please?
Molly Flynn: Sorry.
Mike Biggs: Anyway, by the end of the night, Betsy had slow-danced or dry-humped the quarterback, the fullback, pretty much anybody with a varsity letter and an erection.
Molly Flynn: Oh, honey.
Mike Biggs: Yeah, apparently, I was the warm-up act for the entire team. While they were enjoying the fruits of my labor, I was in the parking lot splitting a meat lover's pizza with the fat tuba player from the marching band.
Molly Flynn: Yeah, I've got a similar story. Mine ends with me splitting a bag of White Castle hamburgers with a very grabby equipment manager. He's a she now.
[Clinks glass and whiskey bottle]
Molly Flynn: I buy my Mary Kay products from her.
[Refills Mike's glass and takes a swig from the bottle]