3

Jack O'Connell, the great unpublished novelist, is keeping a low profile these days, but once a week he escapes his lonely apartment and drives to Estanislao Contreras' house where they sit on the latter's back porch, smoke dope, drink beer and shoot the shit. Since there are no sports to discuss these days and they have called Trump every name in the book, sex becomes the subject du jour.

"Are you still humping that cute Matamoros nurse?" asks Jack.

"Nope," replies the controversial poet of Chicano Fuck Songs.

"How 'bout that chick at The Broken Sprocket?"

"Nope."

"And the widow?"

"Nope."

"It's just you and the wife?"

"Yep."

"Have you told her the good news?"

"There might be a backlash if I were to break her the news of my newfound fidelity."

"You're right. Why the sudden change in your life? I thought you were addicted to strange pussy?"

"Coronavirus has altered everything."

"How's that? Aren't you a rain-or-shine guy and no obstacle can prevent you from delivering the goods?"

"When you're fucking around, you're risking venereal diseases from gonorrhea to chlamydia, from herpes to trichomoniasis and, god forbid, AIDS, among a variety of other exotic infections."

"That has never stopped you in the past?"

"Coronavirus is a different ball game. With a venereal disease, you can only give it to the person you're screwing. When you're boning the movidas, you aren't personally infecting innocent bystanders. But Coronavirus changes the metrics. One of these bitches has come within six feet of someone sneezing and she can transmit the virus to you even though she may be asymptomatic. This shit is so contagious that in three weeks my daughter could be clinging to her life at the hospital. It's a new morality, bro."

"And the wife, how is she holding up under the pressure?"

"I have to give her credit. Without too many complaints, she opens her legs most nights."

"Life is beautiful, isn't it."

"That's the reason you don't marry an ugly woman. When you least expect it, there may be a renaissance."

"Congratulations. It appears the bee has finally landed on his flower."

"I must admit that the buzzing has been good."

As the afternoon turned to evening, a drunk and stoned O'Connell carefully drove home. He wasn't married, but he realized he needed to reduce his several options to one. Or maybe two. 

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