Some Girls Never Learn

Oh, you think you're so smart in your sports coat and silk shirt, don't you Dick Myer?  You strut around giving platitudes for compliments in that smug tone of yours, waiting, no expecting genuine praise in return for your sense of fashion, your joie de vivre. Let out a loud laugh for that one.

I've seen you pat down your hair as you catch your reflection in store windows as you pass. And pull in that expanding belly of yours as if the temporary inflation of your chest will last past your next breath.

Who was the model you dated last week? Poppy something? I heard that she left you sitting in the middle of ‘Stix', the of-so-suave restaurant, with egg all over your face and a lap full of penne with caper and lemon sauce. That's not what you told the guys at the office though, was it? You boasted that you'd screwed her scrawny body then left her bawling and crying for more before you walked out her door promising you'd call her in the morning. Not. Ha ha. They all laughed ‘cause they knew that's what you normally did. I got a whole lot of respect for the tall Poppy that day. That was one you couldn't cut down.

So now you think you're a writer.  Hemingway no less. The words, you say, fall off your pen, simply fall off your pen, onto the paper like magic. You've been born with a gift, I heard you tell that girl whose poem you just told her was...what was that word? Trite? You glanced away when you saw that hurt then added, "It's pedestrian, too," for good measure. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Bet that made you feel superior.

Oh yeah, I saw you passing out cards with some kind of authors' website on it so I picked one (of many) out of the rubbish bin and signed in. What a joke. You even called yourself ‘The Bard'! Pl...ease!  More like the ‘Barb'. Anyway, I just want you to know that I've read some of your ‘work'. I'd write ‘vacuous tripe' in the comment box if I didn't have to leave my real email address and a pledge that I wouldn't say anything nasty.

Steely Dan said your short story, ‘The Erotic Adventures of the Bard' was... okay, give me a minute.... I wrote it down somewhere...where was that?...oh yeah, here it is... "Somewhat lacking in structure. The protagonist would have been more believable if he had at least some redeeming features." Oh my God! What a slammer!? Little did he know you were writing about your own sleazy adventures.

Oh, oh. You've seen me peeking over my computer at you while I wonder what's rolling around that pea-brain of yours. You just unbuttoned your shirt to give me a glimpse of your hairy chest. Yuck! Gorillas turn me on more than that.

Ah shit, you're coming my way. Quick, sign off the web, you stupid broad. You'd be oh so turned on by my checking out your blog, wouldn't you, Dick Meyer? Whew. There. Just in time. All composed now and hard at work on the boss's monthly expense report.

What? You talking to me, boy?

Yeah, I'm fine.

Go out with you? You mean tonight? No. Got nothing special on.

Eight o'clock? At ? ‘Stix' ?

Yeah, sure I've been there before. What do you take me for?

Meet you inside. Sure. Why not?

Yeah, of course I'll dress up. Dah.

Now where was I? Dick Meyer...Oh my god! Wow!...Styx!...tonight....the hottest guy in the office wants me!!!! Wait till I tell the girls!