You're not going to believe this, but I didn't have sex with Melissa that night.

I know. I suck.

Dean and her friend came back and kinda ruined the moment a little but the two of us, like the gentlemen that we are, walked them both to the friend's apartment where Melissa was staying that night. We (I) tried to convince them to let us in for a nightcap but they didn't go for it. There's playing hard to get then there's mission fucking impossible.

I set myself the target of doing the deed before the end of the week or I was bailing on this fledgling relationship. She was just distracting me way too much while I was trying to still be there for Dean. Besides, there was something a little weird about her, right?

Dean was doing much better every single day, and despite the earlier scare, he hadn't contacted Christy again and in fact, he seemed to be texting Melissa's friend. I told him to keep it in a platonic sense though, as I didn't want another Eddie ballsing it up scenario. Thankfully, Amber threw up her memories that night as well as her guts.

On the bright side, Eddie had apparently tracked down Kiwi German Sarah and guess what? He fucked her.

You can imagine his joy at rubbing that in my face.

"So is she a Kiwi or a German?" Dean asked the question that had honestly consumed our lives lately.

We'd snuck out of work a little early so that we could meet Dean for lunch. Thankfully, he hadn't traumatised any waitresses this time. Probably because we'd gotten a takeaway McDonalds and were eating it at the apartment.

"How should I know?" Eddie shrugged before stuffing a mouthful of fries in his mouth.

"Well didn't you ask? Or listen to her accent?" I asked.

"And ruin the mystique? No way!"

"This is why you should be like me," I told Dean. "Not him," Eddie didn't seem offended. In fact, he was more than happy to respond.

"Yeah well at least I'm getting some. Lord only knows what you're up to with this Melissa chick."

"Uh . . . guys?" Dean mumbled, stopping me before I flew to the defence of my non-girlfriend.

We both turned to see what he wanted and found his head buried in a sheet of paper.

"What's that?" Eddie asked, shifting to serious mode. I joined him and approached slowly.

"I just got my credit card bill in." His voice gave nothing away.

"Ouch. What's the damage?" I asked.

"Three thousand fucking dollars!" Dean finally let his deadpanned expression evaporate.

"What the fuck?" I asked, taking it from him to have a look myself. He had read it correctly.

"Did you sign up to scientology or something?" Eddie asked. I literally don't think he was joking here.

"Of course not!" Dean answered anyway. "I don't understand how this could have happened!"

"Well apparently you spent six hundred, two Saturdays ago," I said reading the statement. "Is that when you got laid?"

"It could be," He shrugged.

"That and you also bought a power-washer, apparently," My face scrunched up, unable to fully comprehend what I was reading. We didn't even have a car!

"The Amazon app is a disaster when you're hammered," Was Dean's only defence.

"Can you afford this?" Eddie asked. "I mean, that's a shit-tonne of money".

"I should be able to," He nodded. "But I probably shouldn't go out this weekend. I mean, as much as I want it to be, it's not really an essential spend is it?"

"Whaaaaaa!" Eddie gasped as though he'd just been set on fire. "Blasphemy!" He spat after he'd recovered from the initial shock.

"I hate to say it but you're right. No going out this weekend for you!" I smiled, handing him back his bank statement and standing up, heading for my room to collect my stuff for going back to work.

"We'll just have to go out tonight instead I guess," Dean's suggestion stopped me in my tracks.

"Dude. It's fucking Wednesday."

"So? Didn't you guys tell me that it's cheaper through the week?" Dean persisted. This was a totally mad idea and yet he of all people seemed to be the keenest on it.

"Don't do this to me!" Eddie groaned.

"Do what?"

"Suggest midweek fun! You know I can't resist doing . . . anything!"

"All on you, brother," Dean smirked, knowing already that he'd got me.

"Shit," I sighed, knowing that I had been defeated.

It was official. We had created a monster.

*

We were in a nightclub that could honestly easily have passed for a bingo hall.

In fairness, it was a Wednesday evening and the weather outside was atrocious. Only an idiot would come out drinking on a night like this, which was exactly why we were there.

"I'm just gonna spit this out," Eddie started, "Tonight will not be the night that all three of us get laid."

"You really need to stop saying that," I warned.

The club only had a maximum of eighty people inside and for some reason, no one was dancing. It was like a graveyard but with loud music. We had polished off a few drinks in a bid to make it more fun but right then I didn't even think an orgy would've made this any fun.

"Fuck this."

Eddie downed his drink and wandered over to the dance floor and started throwing out literally the worst dance moves I have ever seen in my life. No warning. No warm up. No nothing. He just did it. He wasn't even drunk yet! It was truly an incredible sight to see him making a fool of himself. It didn't take long for everyone else in the club to spot the crazy guy making the dance floor his own. I couldn't stop laughing.

"Shouldn't we go and get him?" Dean asked nervously.

"Why would we do that?" I quickly replied, trying to make myself heard over the worst song I had heard in ages.

"Well he's so obsessed with getting laid right? He's never going to get anything by dancing like that. If you can even call it dancing."

I smiled. Dean had come a long way in the short weeks since I'd become his self appointed inspiration, but he still had plenty to learn, and I was about to teach him. Remember before, I said we'd come to why you don't necessarily need to be a good dancer? Here's why:

"He knows what he's doing. This is all a part of the plan," I told Dean.

"What plan?"

"We call this one the magnet," I explained. "The key to this particular tactic of picking up chicks is to dance like a crazy person. Enough for people to think that you're really clumsy and uncoordinated; but not too much so that they think you're having a seizure.

"Why? What does that achieve?" Dean asked, not following. I ordered us two more drinks and continued my explanation.

"When you dance like that, as long as you don't look like a danger to society, it shows that you're fun. That you don't care what people think. Girls love that. Look, watch what happens."

I searched the room along with Dean so that I could point out when the magic happened. As expected, there were plenty of people laughing, and plenty of screwing up their faces, trying to figure out what exactly it was that they were watching. Finally though, I pointed towards two girls who also seemed to have plucked up the courage to dance. They both closed in on Eddie and began their own dances. Theirs was much better than his but that was the point. I could see that they were talking to him too and occasionally whispering something into his ear. Obviously I had no idea what they were saying but every one of his responses made them laugh. The magnet was working again.

"This doesn't make any sense at all," Dean said in disbelief.

"It does when you think about it," I countered. "Like I said, it shows his fun side. And on a night like tonight, people just need a kick in the ass to get them going. Eddie is just being that kick!" As if on cue, several other people flocked to the dance floor and split off into their own little groups. Not only had Eddie managed to improve his own night, but it looked like he'd improved everybody else's too.

*

Amazingly, Eddie actually returned to us instead of trying to arrange a threesome which I'd bet Dean a dollar he was doing.

"I got a number. Might meet up with them later," He shrugged. This wasn't like him at all.

"Are you feeling ok?" I asked.

"Yeah," Dean whispered. "This isn't the Eddie I know. Are you sacred that Kiwi German Sarah finds out?"

"What? God no!" Eddie snapped defensively. I was definitely going to save this one to memory so that I could annoy him with it in future.

"You know, I can't believe it. You guys really are good at this!" Dean excitedly changed the subject.

"Of course we are!" Eddie cried. "Would we lie to you?"

"You frequently do."

"There's not really anything to be good at," I shrugged. "It's all about just having a plan. Look, I guarantee we can get you one of those girls' numbers," I said pointing to a group of girls in the corner. They weren't exactly stunning but when has that ever stopped us?

"How?" I was glad Dean asked.

"By doing the annoying friend routine."

"Do you guys have a name for everything?" He sighed.

"Aw man I hate the annoying friend. Why do I always have to be the annoying friend?" Eddie sobbed.

"Because you are the annoying friend," I reminded him. Incredibly, this seemed to satisfy him.

"What exactly is the annoying friend? Besides Eddie, I mean?" I swear Dean could literally spend a whole night asking questions.

"We'll teach you on the way. It's easy," I assured him.

The three of us moved to the dance floor as one and began doing our own thing for one full song. Thankfully Eddie's dancing was much improved now. After enough time had passed, Eddie slowly edged over to where the two girls were standing and began circling them like Jaws circling around the boat. Occasionally he'd throw in another weird dance move until they were suitably creeped out.

"Alright, we're in, let's go!" I cheered, trying to motivate Dean enough to get him in on the act. He'd been hesitant until this point but I was quite sure that it wouldn't be that way for long.

As we walked over to join the weird sight before us, I told him exactly what to say and he agreed to repeat it word for word.

"I'm so sorry about my annoying friend," He apologetically said to the girls. "We'll make sure he stays away from you."

"Thank you," The first one looked sceptical but pleased nonetheless.

I grabbed Eddie's shoulders and began ushering him away from the girls while Dean continued "damage control" on the situation. He was repeatedly apologising for Eddie's actions and explaining that he was just too drunk and all the usual shit. Of course, they didn't know that Eddie was actually totally sober.

Eddie left to go and get a drink for himself while I went back to Dean and the girls, choosing the one he was least likely to want anything from and talked to her about her night so far. I kept this up in the most platonic way possible while Dean and the other girl continued their conversation.

I know you don't want all the boring details so let's just skip to the end here. He got her number!

"You guys really are geniuses!" He laughed as the three of us jumped into a taxi and headed back to the apartment.

"This complimenting business feels pretty good," Eddie smirked. I had to agree with him.

"Yeah, well don't get used to it ok," Dean warned. "Just because you have a couple of half-decent ideas, doesn't mean they're all that good.

"Just you wait!" I promised.

By this point I was a little bit drunk but not too bad. I was just saying whatever came into my head then, without really meaning anything I was saying. But as I watched Dean type out some more story notes on his phone, I had no idea that my mind was subconsciously concocting another plan.

Dean described our girl-grabbing methods as half-decent. But my next bright idea was far more than that.

It may even have been the best idea I had ever had.