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?