Dix: Oh Butch, before I forget, I really appreciate your help fixing my laptop the other night. I didn’t mean to bother you, but I was desperate, and you’re the only guy I know who can possibly help.

Butch: No problem, I was just having a quiet evening in. To be honest, like I said, it wasn’t a big deal. Your laptop was infected with a common virus, that’s all. It could be a lot worse if it’s ransomware, even big companies with sophisticated security protocols have fallen victims. Have you heard of it?

Dix: Of course, that’s what I was afraid of, since it was all over the news. I thought all my data was gone forever, since I don’t have the money to pay off these criminal scums.

Butch: You’re lucky this time. I reckon you’ve opened some infected email attachment files, and it corrupted the operating system. It happens a lot, especially with older computers.

Dix: Beats me, and I thought it might be from some dodgy porn sites. I’m normally fairly careful with junk emails, it could be something sent by a client, I suppose.

Butch: That would do it. It only takes one. At least your computer is now virus free.

Dix: Thanks to you. I owe you one. Now with the internet security and backup software up and running, hopefully there won’t be any more disasters.

Butch: Fingers crossed. I hope you didn’t lose too much of your work this time.

Dix: No, about an hour’s worth of data entry was gone, but didn’t take me long to type them in again. It’ll be a nightmare if I’ve lost the lot.

Butch: Definitely. As a word of advice, I would try to keep your work separate from your “private” use. Instead of running two computers, I’ll be happy to show you how to set up a different personas or profiles just for work.

Dix: Yeah? That’ll be great, thanks. I’m pretty clueless when it comes to computers.

Butch: No problem. You’ll be surprised how many people got into trouble storing their work files in the same place as their massive porn collection.

Dix: Is that right? Well, I don’t think I’ve more porn than any other guys, but better do what you suggested. You probably have loads stacked away, just look at those bulging forearms.

Butch: What if I do? It’s nothing personal, and I’m not judging, just something for you to think about. By the way, these forearms are the result of a lifetime of doing grip exercises.

Dix: Is that another euphemism for masturbation? If you ever have any plant emergencies, feel free to call me. Actually, next time you’re at my shop, let me help you pick a plant, and you can have it for free on me. I bet your flat could do with something green.

Butch: Thanks for the offer, but I’m a serial plant killer. Even fake plastic ones! If there’s a law against killing plants, I’ll be locked up for life.

Dix: You can’t be that hopeless. There are some very hardy ones even you couldn’t kill.

Butch: We will see. Then again, if you sell any money trees, I would gladly have a few of those.

Dix: Don’t we all? I can do with a couple myself. We do sell the Chinese Money Plant, and it meant to bring wealth and good fortune. It’s pretty low maintenance, too.

Butch: Maybe I should give that a try. If it helps me win the lottery, I’ll give you half of it.

Dix: Deal. Where’s our refill? Do you think Harry has cornered some poor, vulnerable bear trying to take a leak?

Butch: Well, it won’t surprise me if it’s a few years ago before he’s married, but not any more. In fact, I saw him at the bar earlier on, so shouldn’t be long. This place has really filled up now the office crowds are here. Speaking of the hairy devil, here he comes.

Dix: You’re right, where did these guys come from? It’s getting busy in here.

Harry: Sorry for keeping you guys waiting, here’s your beer. The bar is packed. The queue’s at least 4 to 5 deep, you’d have thought they were giving away beer for free.

Butch: Don’t worry about it, just give us more time to talk about you.

Harry: Only good things, I hope.

Dix: Depends on your definition of good. Anyway, before I die of thirst. Salut i força al canut!

Harry: Salut i força al canut!

Butch: Salut i força al canut! Harry, have you heard of some plant called “Chinese Fortune Tree”? Dix was just telling me about it.

Dix: It’s “Chinese Money Plant”! It’s only the size of your average pot plant, and not a tree at all.

Harry: Hmm… Don’t think I have ever heard of this money plant, what’s special about it? Does it sprout money instead of leaves? I’d like to see one if it does.

Dix: Not really, but it meant to bring prosperity. Can you imagine having a real money tree?

Harry: And become filthy rich? No, but I’d probably pay off the mortgage, go on a few holidays, no idea after that. You know what they say, money can’t buy love or happiness.

Dix: I know, and not even a hairy chest.

Butch: Maybe there are special leaves you can rub on your chest to make it sprout more hair.

Harry: You’re more likely to get a rash and end up in A&E. Well, my old man forever made me eat the bread crust when I was a boy, probably explains for this thick carpet on my chest.

Dix: It obviously worked for you, but I doubt even eating a ton of bread crusts will make any difference to mine.

Butch: They used to say the same thing about chilly sauce and black coffee to kids. Have you tried those? Frankly, you have a nice chest with just the right amount of hair. Not everyone is attracted to fur balls like Harry or me.

Dix: I suppose, like everything in life, people always want more, whether it is bigger muscle, larger cock, or in my case, hairier chest.

Harry: I know what you mean. When Ian and I first met, he was pretty self-conscious about his receding hairline and kept talking about getting a hair transplant when he can afford it. I blame those film stars and footballers who are desperately trying to cling on to their youth.

Butch: See? Maybe in the future, money can buy you a hairy chest after all. If you ask me, I think Ian looks hotter with his head shaved.

Dix: Yeah? I don’t recall ever seeing Ian with a full head of hair. When did he shave it all off?

Harry: Well, it was a number of years ago, definitely before we got married. We booked a week-long beach holiday in Gran Canaria, and for a laugh, he shaved his head just before we left. During that week, noticeably more guys than usual tried to hit on him on the beach, and even some leather men who don’t normally show any interests were offering him beer at the bars. Since then, he has kept it shaved and not a word about hair transplant any more.

Butch: Oh, that’s why. I still remember the first time I saw him without his hair, and thought if he put on a black suit and shades, he could get a second job as a bouncer.

Dix: Ian, a bouncer? He’s way too nice to be one. Do you think he will let his hair grow again?

Harry: Seriously? That boat has long sailed. I love how butch he looks nowadays, but I’m biased.

Butch: You would say so, even if he has a comb over, or even a mullet. Personally, I think confidence is more attractive than having a full head of hair or built like a muscle god.

Dix: It’s easy for you to say, since you’re big, beefy, and hardly follicly challenged. I’d be too, if I’m built like you. So, Harry, is Ian going to wear a long dreadlock wig for his pirate role?

Harry: I don’t think so, but he did mention something about a big fake moustache and a bandana.

Dix: Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum! Why don’t we all go together to see him on stage?

Harry: Sure. If you guys come up with a date, I know Ian will be happy to arrange the tickets.

Butch: Sounds like a plan. You should ask him to keep the costumes after the run is over. Picture this; being captured and tied up by the notorious pirate, Ian the hole destroyer; you in defiance, refused to reveal the secret location of your treasures, no matter how hard he made good to his reputation repeatedly.

Dix: Yeah! Just like in the Butt Pirates of the Caribbean, and all its sequels.

Butch: See who has been watching too much porn now?

Harry: What a pity Ian’s not here? No doubt he would love being called the “hole destroyer”! But if he tries anything of the sort at home, I won’t be the one who’s tied up and got rogered.

Dix: Well, what you do behind locked doors is your business. I wonder what being a pirate is actually like? Out at sea for months on end, hard physical work all day every day, and sleeping in close quarters with all the smelly sweaty men. I bet there was plenty of unspoken buggery onboard the ships to ease their sexual tension and to relieve boredom.

Butch: Probably. It always sounds like a fun fantasy, but no doubt absolute hell in real life.

Harry: That’s why it has been used so many times in gay porn. I don’t think I can cope with the forced labour, or the complete lack of privacy. It might be different if I’m the captain.

Dix: I’ll stick to working with plants on terra firma, I’m not the most seaworthy person.

Butch: You’re missing out. You should try sailing, it’s a lot of fun. In fact, I love all kinds of water sports, especially on a hot sunny day. Shame we don’t get many of those here in the UK.

Dix: I’m not surprised you’re into water sport. You probably get loads of guys requesting it.

Harry: Don’t you start, Dix. It’s not like you to lower the tone of the conversation.

Butch: Since you asked, I don’t mind a bit of water sport with the right guy. I aim to please! Actually, that’s perfect timing, my bladder can do with emptying. Anyone fancy sampling my recycled beer?

Dix: Tempting as it is, but I think I’ll pass. Call me vanilla, but it’s not my thing.

Butch: It’s you who brought it up. Are you really sure? It’s fresh and warm, straight from the tap.

Dix: Thanks, but no, thanks! Save it for your fans. I like my beer cold and not recycled.

Harry: That’s quite enough talk about it, you guys are putting me off my beer.

Butch: It’s your loss. Be right back.

•••••

Harry: Well, you two can be a real handful together.

Dix: It’s nothing. It’s just harmless banter, and we both know it. Between you and me, I rather enjoy Butch’s company, it’s like being with the big brother I never had.

Harry: I reckon he feels the same way, too. As you know, Butch and I go back a long way. We’ve seen the best and worse in each other, and he's one of the select few I’ll trust with my life.

Dix: I would, too. One can’t have enough friends like that. Growing up, I had a few close friends, but sadly lost touch with them now. It’s hard when they started dating, got married and settled down while I was still negotiating the giant maze of gay life.

Harry: Yeah, I know the drill. You exchange Christmas cards every year, promise to stay in touch at reunions, until it reaches the stage one has nothing to contribute any more when all they talked about were things like picking school for their kids.

Dix: That’s right. Obviously, I’ve made new ones since, but they are mostly just “acquaintances”. I definitely don’t share a long history with any of them like you and Butch do.

Harry: I count myself very lucky. I think Butch was the first person I told about Ian, and it was so funny thinking back how protective Butch was initially, questioning every little thing like a concerned parent. By the way, you know you can count on us whenever, and Ian too.

Dix: Thanks. That means a lot to me.

Harry: Don’t mention it. So, have you been seeing anyone lately?

Dix: Not really. Had a few hookups with for quick one-off sessions, and that’s about it. I’ve a feeling a couple of them might be married and just playing on the side when their wives were out shopping. You would have thought, with the internet and mobile phones, it’s easy to find a date. It’s not! All they want is a quick shag and get back to their own lives.

Harry: Technology might have improved, but the men stayed the same. Something doesn’t change.

Dix: Unfortunately, so. It’s alright for you since you have already found Ian.

Harry: True, but occasionally, I do trawl through those gay apps. Usually curious to see if there is fresh meat around. But don’t get me wrong, I love Ian and not looking to change that. Actually, he does the same thing, since I often see him logged on himself.

Dix: Which reminds me, have you heard this one before? Online dating is like finding a parking space… all the good ones are taken, and the rest are either handicapped or too far away.

Harry: Ha ha ha. So true, have to tell Ian later when I’m home, he loves a good joke.

Butch: What have I missed? What’s so funny? I was standing at the urinal and just kept pissing and pissing, felt like it’ll never stop. I’ve no idea where all the fluids came from, I haven’t even finished my third pint. Oh, sorry, you guys probably don’t want to know that.

Dix: No, we don’t, Butch. Nobody here wants to hear about the details of your bodily functions. You should keep it for your fuck buddies who are into water sport.

Harry: Dix, tell Butch the joke, he’ll probably relate.

Dix: OK. Why “online dating” is like finding a parking space?

Butch: Why?

Dix: All the good ones are taken. The rest are either handicapped or too far away.

Butch: Yes, very amusing, did you come up with it? It’s not far from reality. Sometimes, I’m glad I'm happily single and not playing that tedious dating game desperately searching for the “perfect husband”. So, how about this joke? What do you do when you see a space man?

Harry: Park in it! Everybody knows that one.

Dix: Park what? Oh, not the “take me to your leader” kind of spaceman! That’s truly awful.

Harry: It’s from an old sitcom Christmas special. Maybe you were too young to remember it.

Dix: I’m only a few years younger than you guys. I must lead a sheltered life and missed it.

Harry: What sheltered life? Not, judging from all the horny men you’ve been playing with recently.

Butch: Oh, do I want to know? Don’t tell me, they were all big, hairy, old and married.

Dix: No, not all of them, but unfortunately not far off. Am I that predictable?

Butch: I just know your type. As a rule of thumb, most daddy bears and the odd polar bear will catch your attention. But, somehow you have the tendency to find the ones who are already married, or worse, those married to a woman!

Harry: Yeah, you do know how to pick them according to your track record. If you ever want to find someone long term, you need to avoid these unavailable ones.

Dix: You think I don’t know that? But, until I meet that special guy, I’ll continue to have fun in the meantime.

Butch: I’m not judging, some daddy bears are definitely fun to play with. Round and furry in the middle, it’s like pounding a big soft fluffy pillow.

Dix: Not to mention, they usually have plenty of experience and always eager to please. I bet Sigmund Freud will say I’ve developed some kind of Santa Claus fixation at an early age.

Butch: Yeah. You probably have dreams about Father Christmas sliding into your chimney, and filling you with his gifts from his big bulging sac over and over again.

Dix: You’re hilarious! Doubt I’ll say no to the doc himself, and just let him take me on his couch.

Butch: What a tart! I had my share of older bears before. Personally, age has never been an issue to me as long as they have a heathy amount of meat on them, hairy is definitely a plus.

Harry: And don’t you forget the lard. Ideally, a big chunky guy with a little wobble will have you drooling all over.

Butch: Just a little wobble? I’d have him shaking like a blancmange when I’m giving him the ride of his life. As usual, you know me too well, Harry.

Dix: Even I know that, you’re an open book when it comes to men. Given the chance, I bet you will do the Michelin man, the Ghostbusters’ marshmallow man, or both together.

Harry: Yeah, sandwiched between them is probably your idea of heaven.

Butch: Don’t you side with Dix and gang up on me now? Actually, it does sound rather fun. There’s nothing wrong with liking guys who are a bit chubby and overweight. I can’t explain it, but fit, muscular guys just don’t turn me on.

Harry: Not ganging up, it’s just the truth. I know there are guys into muscle worshipping, but not me. I don’t find these gym rats with veins popping up all over the body that attractive. Their over the top muscle-bound zero body fat bodies do not look natural to me at all.

Dix: You can’t blame them when fitness magazines continuously sell the idea that only guys with muscular bodies will win over girls and respect, and many buy into it unsurprisingly.

Butch: Yeah, and don’t you forget social media, too. There are a few of those meatheads in the gym I go to. I reckon no matter how much muscle mass they put on, they’ll never be big enough in their mind. There is even a word for it these days. It’s called bigorexia.

Dix: “Big O” what? Not a word I’ve some across.

Butch: Bigorexia. It’s like anorexia, but instead of trying to be thin, people develop an unhealthy obsession with being big and muscular. Many even risk using steroids to boost their size.

Harry: I’ve read steroid abuse among young men is escalating out of control nowadays. Sadly, they could be paying the price in years to come. Butch, have you ever thought about juicing?

Butch: I’d be lying if I say it has never crossed my mind, but it’s not in my nature to take shortcuts. It’s true, anabolic steroids can help to put on muscle mass quickly, but at what costs? I can do without mood swings, painful acnes, growing breasts, and shrinking balls.

Harry: And don’t forget cardiac problems after prolong use. Heart attacks used to be exclusively an old man disease, but increasingly in the past few years, I’ve been called out to cases of men in their 30s and 40s suffering heart attacks. It’s unbelievable, they’re built like a Greek god but inside their hearts were worn out like an old man. It’s absolutely heartbreaking.

Dix: Personally, I’m not a fan of these quick gains, no matter tempting it might sound. It won’t surprise me, a few of those peacock-like guys in my gym could be doing steroids.

Harry: If properly used, steroids are useful for treating some illnesses, but there’s no way I’d ever inject anything bought online, probably come from a dodgy factory in China, into my veins.

Butch: I agree. Unfortunately, it’s far too easy for young people to buy everything online these days. Steroids, party pills, and even hard drugs are all available at the click of a button.

Harry: Yeah, there will be a lot less chemsex parties if the drugs are harding to get hold of.

Dix: I’ve even seen them advertised in hookup apps. It’s nearly impossible to avoid these days, scary! I’ve my poison of choice right here and don’t need to use anything else. Actually, it would be if my glass is not empty. So, whose round is it now?

Butch: It must be my turn, since I haven’t bought one yet today. Another round of beer?

Dix: Sure. I’ll have the same again. Thanks, Butch.

Harry: Yes, please, but it’ll be my last.

Butch: Already? That’s not like you. Anyway, wish me luck getting through the crowds to the bar.

Dix: You’ll be fine, just put on your mean face and the crowd will part like the Red Sea for you.

Butch: Do you want your beer or not? I don’t have a mean face, it’s just how I look.

Harry: Go, while the bar is quieter. You two can bicker to your heart’s content after I’ve my refill.

Butch: Sir. Yes, Sir!