"I can't believe we're doing this," you say as you watch me uncoiling the garden hose and screwing it onto the spigot. We're both a few beers in, standing in the yard on a warm fall day in swim trunks, and we're about to make some questionable decisions.
"Come on, you keep saying you've always wanted to try it! I promise, it'll be great. It's like a tire pump, but way better," as I lube up the end of the hose and drag it over to you. "Pull down the back of your shorts a little."
You comply, edging down the back of your trunks and bending forward a little.