As he admires the impressive cock of his neighbor, Kirby Cavanaugh — which is now exposed to both him and a sobbing Seth due to an unfortunate — or fortunate (depending on how one feels about receiving the Full Monty from an incredibly sexy married man) — bathrobe malfunction, Roger Hardy is almost tempted to say:

“National Coming Out Day is in October, Kirby.”

But he doesn’t—and continues his furtive glances (hey, if the guy wants to flaunt it, who is he to deny himself the pleasure of its company) as Mr. Cavanaugh expresses his concern: “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t usually get this emotional,” an embarrassed Seth apologizes while wiping away his tears. “It’s just your bathrobe—my boyfriend has the exact same one.”

“Oh. Did something happen to him?” a confused Kirby inquires.

“No, he’s fine—but he does love that robe.”

“Me, too, man, it’s so fucking comfortable—oh shit, the cow’s out of the barn.” Mr. Cavanaugh has finally noticed that his door has been left wide open. “Sorry, boys, the show’s over—unless you’re willing to pay.”

Again, Roger is momentarily tempted to ask how much, but since the obviously intoxicated man is flying higher than That Girl’s kite and probably will not remember most of what’s been said whenever he returns back to Earth, he refrains.

“Come have a beer, buddy, that’ll make you feel better,” Kirby tells Seth with a pat on the back before introductions are made and they follow him into the kitchen, where his beautiful wife is now entering through the back door carrying a bag of groceries.

“Oh hello,” she utters in a high-pitched tone of unexpected delight with a hint of underlying horror.

“Me and the boys are having a happy hour, honey!”

“I don’t believe we’ve met, have we?” the woman asks Seth, who just smiles and shakes his head. “I’m Claire, Kirby’s wife.”

“This is Seth—he and his partner just moved into 4944,” Roger explains.
“Welcome to the neighborhood,” Claire almost squeals. “We’re fairly new around here ourselves—”

“Bottoms up, boys!” her husband interrupts while passing out beverages. “To Seth—and your boyfriend—may you both be very happy here on Fosse Avenue.”

“That’s lovely, dear,” Claire tells her spouse as she watches him drink with great concern—which does not go unnoticed by Roger, who decides to state the purpose of their surprise visit so they can get the hell out of there.

“I wanted to introduce you guys to Seth as well as to give you this—a belated shower gift.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” the young woman coos. “Isn’t that sweet, Kirby?”

“Sweet, man, just for that I’ll let you have another look.”

And so as his pretty wife rips off the baby duck wrapping paper, Mr. Cavanaugh whips open his robe once again to reveal his marvelous manhood, causing Seth to choke on his beer and Roger to smile and nod his appreciative approval (if only he could clap and whistle).

“How was your Oscar party? I’m so disappointed we couldn’t make it, but we’ve been trying to get together with these friends of ours forever and—oh look, honey, bibs in bright colors—and one for every day of the week. Isn’t that clever?” Claire’s bubbly joy is short-lived as she finally observes her husband’s overexposure. “Darling, what are you doing?”

“Letting it all hang out, baby!”

Holding up a sky blue Monday and a hot pink Tuesday in either hand, the young woman appears on the verge of a major meltdown as the man she loves finally closes his robe and opens the fridge to grab himself another beverage.

“I thought they were kind of cute—the bibs,” Roger clarifies in case anyone thinks he’s referring to Kirby’s attractive anatomy. “I got them at Macy’s—”

A bottle of Corona now falls to the floor and shatters as the bathrobed beauty fixes a glare of wild-eyed fury on his startled neighbor, who wonders if it was something he said. There are some people who are still pissed off about Macy’s taking over Marshall Field’s downtown store, but Kirby Cavanaugh doesn’t strike Roger as one of these crazy folks—like his devoted partner, Doug, who has refused to shop at the department store ever since it was renamed in 2006 (“It’s a fucking travesty” were Doug’s exact words, but at least—to Roger’s great relief—he hasn’t gone so far as to protest with signs like some yahoos have). Doug wasn’t even impressed when Martha Stewart began selling her stuff at the store, but Roger is convinced that if Brad Pitt suddenly started hocking his own line of elegant bed linens at Macy’s, his lover would be hiking his buns downtown with cash in hand.

“I don’t feel so well,” Kirby now announces as his wife fetches a broom and dustpan to clean up the Corona remains.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down, dear,” she suggests, and they all breathe a sigh of relief when he staggers out of the room.

“Let me do that,” Roger tells his very pregnant neighbor, who gladly hands over the clean-up duty.

“I’m so sorry about Kirby. He’s usually not this way,” she assures Seth, who just smiles and takes a sip of his beer.

“Is everything all right, Claire?” Roger delicately inquires.

“Oh yes, we’re fine. We just had a bad experience with Macy’s last year—they delivered the wrong couch—and I guess my husband’s still got a few lingering issues about all that.”

Roger was hoping for more of an answer to Kirby’s excessive drinking and flashing of his amazing attribute, but he decides not to go there today.

“So when’s the housewarming party?” the young woman suddenly asks a startled Seth. “You gotta have one—think of all the cool gifts you’ll get.”

“Well . . . I usually throw a party for Adam’s birthday, which is next month. Last year everyone had to dress up like their favorite Disney cartoon character, so we had lots of Cinderellas, Snow Whites and evil Queens.”

Roger notices the sudden bright light that seems to turn on in Claire’s mind, illuminating her entire face in an eerie glow of excitement: “A theme party! That’s a wonderful idea! A combination birthday/housewarming theme party! I love it! Don’t you, Roger?”

“It’s . . . an interesting idea,” replies Mr. Hardy, who has never been a big costume enthusiast—even on Halloween.

“And, of course, you can count on my help—I love planning parties!” Claire informs a concerned Seth while walking them to the door. “This is going to be so much fun! We’re going to throw Adam the best darn birthday bash he’s ever had!”

Unable to pop the bubbly balloon of a woman expecting twins whose drunk husband enjoys showing off the family jewels, Seth just smiles and nods and returns home to deliver the good news, while Roger will later hug Doug and thank God for their quiet evening together with a Lou Malnati’s pepperoni pizza and Woody Allen’s Manhattan Murder Mystery.

To be continued . . .

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