The Streak - 5

Kyle snapped out of his nod. The sight of Evan between the asses of the strippers was like a glimpse of the cold, blue sea down a dirty city street. "Bro!" He got up and greeted Evan with an elaborate handshake, a hip bump, two consecutive lo-fives, a hi-five and finally a terse hug, as though what had just transpired were a ritual fight programmed to conclude in a gesture of conciliation. This is how they greeted each other in the dugout when someone hit a home run or a sac fly or whatever, not that they'd had many of those lately. The girls stood awkwardly to the side, shifting in their heels, smiles at the ready.