Read Online Girlfriends (Patrick Sanchez) by Patrick Sanchez - Free Book Online
Authors: Patrick Sanchez
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tried to convince herself that she was being too hard on herself. Compared to other people she knew, she was almost saintly. Since college she’d probably only slept with a dozen guys, and she wouldn’t go home with just anyone. She had to hit it off with them, and they had better damn well be attractive. In an age of AIDS and Lord knows what else, she wasn’t about to take that kind of risk with any joe schmo who came along. But all of this changed after the “Griffin incident.” What happened to her standards? Why had she sunk so low? She was only twenty-eight. She certainly wasn’t looking old and haggard yet. She shouldn’t have to settle for a guy like Griffin for at least another ten years. Maybe another fifteen if the Pond’s Age-Defying Cream actually worked.
Passing on a Milky Way
C heryl had just gotten back from Whatsa Bagel on 18th Street and was settling in for a relaxed Sunday afternoon. She was finishing her coffee and sitting next to the phone with the Washington City Paper in hand. She decided she was going to respond to the two ads she had circled the night before and was still trying to get up the nerve to actually pick up the phone. She hadn’t really prepared anything to say. She didn’t want her response to sound rehearsed. She wanted it to be relaxed and casual—even if she wasn’t.
Eventually, she picked up the phone, dialed the 900 number, and responded to the appropriate prompts. When she entered the code for the first personal ad, she was immediately turned off by his recorded greeting:
“Hi. My name is Tyrol. I’ve been told that I’m very good-looking, but I don’t get off on it or anything. I work out at Gold’s four days a week and, if I do say so myself, I have a defined muscular build. I have short black hair, brown eyes, and skin the color of a Milky Way candy bar. I enjoy the finer things in life: wine, nice restaurants, fast cars, and beautiful women. I own my home, drive a BMW 500 series, and work in high finance. I’m looking for an attractive woman with brains and beauty who doesn’t mind taking care of her man. . . .”
As soon as Cheryl heard the part about “taking care of her man” she pressed the pound key to stop the message. She had heard enough. His tone was so pompous and patronizing, not to mention the “skin the color of a Milky Way candy bar” thing—how stupid was that? And although Cheryl had to admit that owning a home and driving a luxury car were certainly things she would like in a guy, she didn’t think it was appropriate to put something like that in your initial greeting. Those were things you let your date subtly find out about, so it doesn’t appear as if you’re bragging.
Once she bypassed Tyrol, she skimmed the paper for the other ad that she had circled and punched in the appropriate code.
“Hi, thanks for answering my ad. My name is Hal, and I live just outside the city in Alexandria. I really hate talking on these things, so I’m going to keep it brief. Just to get the stats out of the way: I’m 32 years old, 5’10”, 165 pounds, light brown hair, and have green eyes. I’m certainly not buff, but I know my way to the gym and I’m in reasonably good shape. I like doing virtually anything. I enjoy hiking in the summer, going to the beach, restaurants, movies, biking, reading, you name it. I guess I’m really looking to meet some new friends in the area and see what happens. So, if you would leave your name and number and tell me a little bit about yourself, I’ll give you a call back and maybe we can meet for coffee or something. Thanks again for taking the time to answer the ad.”
Cheryl really liked the sound of Hal’s voice. He just sounded like a nice guy, not cocky or arrogant like Tyrol. He seemed friendly and maybe a bit humble. She pressed the key to leave a response.
“Hi, I’m Cheryl . . .”
She pressed the key to start again. “Hi, I’m Cheryl . . .”
Once again she pressed the key
Passing on a Milky Way
C heryl had just gotten back from Whatsa Bagel on 18th Street and was settling in for a relaxed Sunday afternoon. She was finishing her coffee and sitting next to the phone with the Washington City Paper in hand. She decided she was going to respond to the two ads she had circled the night before and was still trying to get up the nerve to actually pick up the phone. She hadn’t really prepared anything to say. She didn’t want her response to sound rehearsed. She wanted it to be relaxed and casual—even if she wasn’t.
Eventually, she picked up the phone, dialed the 900 number, and responded to the appropriate prompts. When she entered the code for the first personal ad, she was immediately turned off by his recorded greeting:
“Hi. My name is Tyrol. I’ve been told that I’m very good-looking, but I don’t get off on it or anything. I work out at Gold’s four days a week and, if I do say so myself, I have a defined muscular build. I have short black hair, brown eyes, and skin the color of a Milky Way candy bar. I enjoy the finer things in life: wine, nice restaurants, fast cars, and beautiful women. I own my home, drive a BMW 500 series, and work in high finance. I’m looking for an attractive woman with brains and beauty who doesn’t mind taking care of her man. . . .”
As soon as Cheryl heard the part about “taking care of her man” she pressed the pound key to stop the message. She had heard enough. His tone was so pompous and patronizing, not to mention the “skin the color of a Milky Way candy bar” thing—how stupid was that? And although Cheryl had to admit that owning a home and driving a luxury car were certainly things she would like in a guy, she didn’t think it was appropriate to put something like that in your initial greeting. Those were things you let your date subtly find out about, so it doesn’t appear as if you’re bragging.
Once she bypassed Tyrol, she skimmed the paper for the other ad that she had circled and punched in the appropriate code.
“Hi, thanks for answering my ad. My name is Hal, and I live just outside the city in Alexandria. I really hate talking on these things, so I’m going to keep it brief. Just to get the stats out of the way: I’m 32 years old, 5’10”, 165 pounds, light brown hair, and have green eyes. I’m certainly not buff, but I know my way to the gym and I’m in reasonably good shape. I like doing virtually anything. I enjoy hiking in the summer, going to the beach, restaurants, movies, biking, reading, you name it. I guess I’m really looking to meet some new friends in the area and see what happens. So, if you would leave your name and number and tell me a little bit about yourself, I’ll give you a call back and maybe we can meet for coffee or something. Thanks again for taking the time to answer the ad.”
Cheryl really liked the sound of Hal’s voice. He just sounded like a nice guy, not cocky or arrogant like Tyrol. He seemed friendly and maybe a bit humble. She pressed the key to leave a response.
“Hi, I’m Cheryl . . .”
She pressed the key to start again. “Hi, I’m Cheryl . . .”
Once again she pressed the key
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