Down there

We sat at the oceanside bar watching the sunset and downing one of the dozens of Mai Tai's of the week. My brother rambled on...

"Yeah, sub life really sucks. I mean, you guys have no idea what it's like down there. We just do what we have to do to get by, just trying to amuse ourselves and waiting until we get to dock..."

Slurp, slurp. Jason reached the end of his drink and frantically looked around for the waitress.

"...and the food sucks. It's total crap. So many guys just get so fat down there because the food is so gross. So last time we were underway for a month my buddy and I made a bet that neither of us could eat a single dessert the entire time we were down, to try to stay a little healthy at least."

"Oh yeah? What was the bet?" Our interest peaked slightly at this. $50 bucks? Doing the other person's chores?

"If one of us ate a dessert, the other guy got to punch him in the nuts."

Blink, blink. Awkward silence for a few seconds. Jason and I had no idea how to respond to that. At first.

Then we bust out laughing. "What?? Why would you bet that?" Then we went off on a tirade of jokes about how barbaric and ridiculous that was, complete with hypothetical situations and alternative scenarios.

"I can tell I'm going to regret telling you that story," my brother mumbled as he sank down into his seat and the sun dropped just below the horizon.