Wilcock
From: Mel Fuller
Subject: No big deal
He just couldn’t figure out how to work his aunt’s electric can opener. He bought Mr. Peepers some actual tuna in order to lure him out from under the bed. It didn’t work, of course. I suggested next time he buy tuna in water rather than in oil. I don’t know that cats like oil so much.
Anyway, while I was there, he asked which was the best place in the neighborhood to order Chinese from. So I told him, and then he asked if I’d had dinner, and I said no, so he asked if I wanted to order with him, and so I said yes, and we had barbecued spare ribs, cold sesame noodles, moo shu pork, and chicken with broccoli.
And I know what you are going to say now, and no, it was not a date, Nadine. For God’s sake, it was only Chinese food. In his aunt’s kitchen. With Paco sitting there, waiting for one of us to drop something so he could vacuum it up.
And no, he didn’t make a pass at me. Max, I mean, not Paco. Although I don’t see how he could resist, seeing as how I’m sure I was quite stunning in my it’s-Saturday-night-and-I-don’t-have-a-date sweats.
The fact is, Dolly has to be wrong about Max. He’s no ladies’ man. It was all very casual and friendly. It turns out we have a lot in common. He likes mysteries and so do I, so we talked about our favorite mysteries. You know, he is quite literary, for a photographer. I mean, compared to some of the guys in the art department at work. Can you picture Larry conversing knowingly about Edgar Allan Poe? I don’t think so.
Oh, God, a horrible thought just occurred to me: What if all that stuff Dolly said about Max is true, and he IS a ladies’ man? What does that mean, seeing as how he didn’t make a pass at me?
It can only mean one thing!
Oh, God, I’m hideous!
Mel
To: Mel Fuller
From: Nadine Wilcock
Subject: Go take a Midol…
would you, please? You are not hideous. I’m sure all those things Dolly said about Max Friedlander aren’t true. I mean, it’s DOLLY, for God’s sake. She used to have YOUR job. Only unlike you, she wasn’t exactly scrupulous about what she reported. For instance, I sincerely doubt she’d have felt your moral outrage over what Matt Damon did to Winona.
I’m sure Max is a very nice guy, just like you said.
Nad :-)
To: Dolly Vargas
From: Nadine Wilcock
Subject: Max Friedlander
All right. Spill it. What’s the truth about this guy? Because he has basically moved in next door to Mel and she’s clearly smitten, despite her protests to the contrary. Is he really as bad as you say, or are you exaggerating, as usual?
And remember: I am the head food critic at the paper. With a single phone call I can make sure you never get into Nobu again, so don’t mess with me, Dolly.
Nad
To: [email protected]
From: Jason Trent
Subject: So?
You’re not speaking to me now, or what? All I said on the phone was that what you don’t know about women would fill the Grand Canyon. What are you so touchy about all of a sudden?
Jason
P.S.: Stacy wants to know if you’ve asked the redhead out yet.
To: Jason Trent
From: [email protected]
Subject: So?
I am not being touchy. What do you want from me? Not all of us have a personal assistant, a driver, an au pair, a housekeeper, a gardener, a team of pool maintenance workers, a tennis instructor, a nutritionist, and a job our grandfather handed to us on a silver platter, you know. I’m just busy, all right? My God, I’ve got a full-time job and a Great Dane I have to walk four times a day.
John
P.S.: Tell Stacy I’m working on it.
To: [email protected]
From: Jason Trent
Subject: You ought to seek professional help
Listen,
From: Mel Fuller
Subject: No big deal
He just couldn’t figure out how to work his aunt’s electric can opener. He bought Mr. Peepers some actual tuna in order to lure him out from under the bed. It didn’t work, of course. I suggested next time he buy tuna in water rather than in oil. I don’t know that cats like oil so much.
Anyway, while I was there, he asked which was the best place in the neighborhood to order Chinese from. So I told him, and then he asked if I’d had dinner, and I said no, so he asked if I wanted to order with him, and so I said yes, and we had barbecued spare ribs, cold sesame noodles, moo shu pork, and chicken with broccoli.
And I know what you are going to say now, and no, it was not a date, Nadine. For God’s sake, it was only Chinese food. In his aunt’s kitchen. With Paco sitting there, waiting for one of us to drop something so he could vacuum it up.
And no, he didn’t make a pass at me. Max, I mean, not Paco. Although I don’t see how he could resist, seeing as how I’m sure I was quite stunning in my it’s-Saturday-night-and-I-don’t-have-a-date sweats.
The fact is, Dolly has to be wrong about Max. He’s no ladies’ man. It was all very casual and friendly. It turns out we have a lot in common. He likes mysteries and so do I, so we talked about our favorite mysteries. You know, he is quite literary, for a photographer. I mean, compared to some of the guys in the art department at work. Can you picture Larry conversing knowingly about Edgar Allan Poe? I don’t think so.
Oh, God, a horrible thought just occurred to me: What if all that stuff Dolly said about Max is true, and he IS a ladies’ man? What does that mean, seeing as how he didn’t make a pass at me?
It can only mean one thing!
Oh, God, I’m hideous!
Mel
To: Mel Fuller
From: Nadine Wilcock
Subject: Go take a Midol…
would you, please? You are not hideous. I’m sure all those things Dolly said about Max Friedlander aren’t true. I mean, it’s DOLLY, for God’s sake. She used to have YOUR job. Only unlike you, she wasn’t exactly scrupulous about what she reported. For instance, I sincerely doubt she’d have felt your moral outrage over what Matt Damon did to Winona.
I’m sure Max is a very nice guy, just like you said.
Nad :-)
To: Dolly Vargas
From: Nadine Wilcock
Subject: Max Friedlander
All right. Spill it. What’s the truth about this guy? Because he has basically moved in next door to Mel and she’s clearly smitten, despite her protests to the contrary. Is he really as bad as you say, or are you exaggerating, as usual?
And remember: I am the head food critic at the paper. With a single phone call I can make sure you never get into Nobu again, so don’t mess with me, Dolly.
Nad
To: [email protected]
From: Jason Trent
Subject: So?
You’re not speaking to me now, or what? All I said on the phone was that what you don’t know about women would fill the Grand Canyon. What are you so touchy about all of a sudden?
Jason
P.S.: Stacy wants to know if you’ve asked the redhead out yet.
To: Jason Trent
From: [email protected]
Subject: So?
I am not being touchy. What do you want from me? Not all of us have a personal assistant, a driver, an au pair, a housekeeper, a gardener, a team of pool maintenance workers, a tennis instructor, a nutritionist, and a job our grandfather handed to us on a silver platter, you know. I’m just busy, all right? My God, I’ve got a full-time job and a Great Dane I have to walk four times a day.
John
P.S.: Tell Stacy I’m working on it.
To: [email protected]
From: Jason Trent
Subject: You ought to seek professional help
Listen,
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