Somewhat frazzled, he turns back to his own drink and finishes it off to keep from sputtering out a response to the "gay" remark. Sliding the empty bottle away, he mutters, "Not exactly." He drums his fingers on the bar, checking out his options for Drink Number Three. "Not every man needs... that."

And little does he know that he's in a place where you can get any other "that" that comes to mind. In any case, he's going to try to change the subject now. "I still don't know your name. Seems like I should, since you just tried to buy me a lapdance."