washboard abs

your friend jimmy
calls you
on the phone at nine
a.m.  you are on your
first cup of coffee
flipping through
the paper.
what's up you say.
nothing, he says.
umm, well then, what's
this call about.
are you sitting down
he says. yes, you
say, and turn the page.
i'm sitting. what's up.
well, i think i  might
be gay. he says.
this makes you spit
your coffee out
and hit the cat who
is sitting on the counter
licking a butter knife.
what are you talking
about. you've been
married three times
and have five kids.
i know, i know. it's just
that at the gym the other
day there was this
guy who was working out
on the stairmaster
and he had these abs.
like freaking washboards.
i couldn't take  my
eyes off him.
that means nothing. pfft.
you were just admiring
his physique, that's all.
that doesn't make you gay.
really, okay. good, whew.
i was getting worried.
hey, does that redhead still
live next to you, the one
who likes yoga so  much.
i think she likes me.