Stan: I just don't see how you could do it. Mike: Do what? Stan: (stares at him) You know! Mike: With Ethan? Stan: Yes. Mike: Why? You knew he was gay. Stan: You're not! Mike: What's gay? Stan: Don't play semantics with me. This is too important. Mike: Important to who? Stan: To me. Mike: I don't see how it has anything to do with you. Stan: He's my friend! Mike: So don't judge him. Stan: I'm not. Mike: Then you're judging me? Stan: No...yes. I don't know. You just shouldn't have. Mike: I'm to apologize for having an open mind? Stan: No. Never mind. Forget it. (an uncomfortable silence falls over the two) Mike: Look, why does this upset you? (Stan holds his gaze moodily to his feet) You've been bar-hopping with him, right? You've seen him pick up guys before. Stan: That wasn't you. Mike: Right. I know him. He can trust me. You'd rather he fall in with a stranger? Stan: No! Don't put words in my mouth! Mike: Okay. Then tell me. What is it? Stan: I never actually saw him kiss a man before. I didn't think it would bother me, but it did. Especially with you. Mike: I'm sorry. Stan: Don't be. (pauses as he collects his thoughts) Okay, forget the 'how.' I'll give you the 'how.' You can do something I'd have a lot of trouble with. But why? Mike: What do you mean? Stan: Are you just playing a game with him? He doesn't really need that kind of stress, you know. Mike: Do you think that's why I did it? Stan: No. Why did you? Mike: Experience. I was curious. I'd always sort of sworn that if the opportunity ever arose, I'd take it. Just so that I could understand their side for myself, and not make judgements based on fifth-hand hearsay. Stan: You could have just asked him. Mike: I have. So have you. Do you think you understand why he's gay, what it's like? Stan: No. Do you? Mike: I think I now have a leg to stand on. Stan: That's the only reason you did it? Mike: Well...you know it was his idea. Stan: Don't tell me you did it for him. Mike: No. I didn't. Stan: You couldn't have done it for the sex. Mike: Why not? Stan: (swallowing) Did you? Mike: Partly. Stan: How did that go? Mike: When? Stan: After you went upstairs. Mike: Oh. Er, he seemed to have a lot of fun. Stan: (pressing) And you? Mike: Not so much. I learned. I came to some conclusions pretty fast. Stan: Like what? Mike: I'm glad I'm a heterosexual. Stan: Really? Mike: Honest. Stan: Would you do it again? Mike: Would it bother you? Stan: I don't know. Maybe. It might. Mike: I doubt it. Maybe. Not him, though. Stan: Why? Mike: Too fuzzy. Stan: Ugh. Thanks. Mike: Sorry. (Mike laughs at some hidden joke, pulls out his wallet, fumbles out a white plastic card, cracks it in two and flips the pieces into a nearby trashcan) Stan: What was that? Mike: Blood donor's card. Stan: Why...oh. There are a lot of ramifications to this, aren't there? Mike: (soberly) Yup. Stan: Any regrets? Mike: None. Not yet, anyway. Stan: You're weird. Mike: (crooked smile) Thanks. Stan: Ready for bed? Mike: Why, when we've only two hours to go until breakfast? Stan: Right! Mike: So, how about those Mets?