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Women 101: A Father's Humorous Guide To His Son Page 2
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“There were only two and I called both of them. I left a voice-mail for the first one, but she hasn’t called me back.”
“And the second one?”
“I must have written down her number wrong, because when I called it, the message said the number was no longer in service.”
Dave realized his son had fallen for the old bogus-telephone-number trick. It was definitely time for lesson two: Women Lie.
Lesson 2: Women Lie
“I don’t understand,” Trevor said. “You mean that girl intentionally gave me the wrong telephone number?”
“Probably,” his father said. “It could have been because she didn’t want to hurt your feelings, or because she was afraid of how you’d react if she told you she wasn’t interested.”
Trevor had that far-away look in his eyes, like he was re-living the encounter at the grocery store. “How do you know if they’re lying?”
“You don’t,” Dave said.
Dave could see the confusion on his son’s face. “And some of those women who said they weren’t interested in going out with you, might actually want to,” he added.
Now it looked like Trevor was re-thinking his whole life.
“Let’s start over,” Trevor said. “You’re saying some of the girls who said they’d like to go out on a date with me actually don’t, and some of the ones who said they weren’t interested, actually do.”
“Precisely,” Dave said. He knew this was starting to sound like the Abbott and Costello “Who’s on First” routine.
“How is a guy supposed to know which is which?”
“You have to watch for clues,” Dave said, “like in their body language, or in how they phrase their answer. Tell me exactly what each of them said.”
Trevor’s chin dropped to his chest and he mumbled his answer. “The girl who gave me the bogus telephone number said she was really busy at work – working on some big project right now – but she said to call and leave a message and she’d get back to me if she could free up some time.”
“Okay, it sounds to me like she’s blowing you off. She’s already hinted at a reason why she won’t go out with you. I don’t think she’ll ever call you back, even if you did have the right number.”
Trevor squinted his eyes a bit. “Yeah, I guess I can see that now.”
“What about the other girl?”
“I asked her if she wanted to go see a movie. She said she likes movies and I should call her. I did, but she hasn’t returned the call.”
Dave smiled at him. “Okay, she sounds like she really is interested.”
Trevor perked up at the assessment. “Should I call her again?”
“No, no, no. You don’t want to sound desperate. The ball is now in her court, but I think she really will call you back. So you see, one of the yes’s is probably legit, but the other yes is probably a no.”
“This is so confusing,” Trevor said.
Dave nodded his agreement. “Now, what about the women who said no?”
“Most of them were pretty clear they weren’t interested,” Trevor said. “But there was one that I thought I was getting along really well with, but she also turned me down.”
“What – exactly – did she say?”
“I asked Monica – she’s the one who told me how to cook Brussels sprouts – if she wanted to see the new Matt Damon movie with me on Friday night. She said she loved Matt Damon, but she couldn’t because she was busy on Friday.”
“And?”
Trevor gave his father a strange look. “And what? I just said I’d see her around sometime.”
Dave let out a heavy sigh. “You see, that no wasn’t actually a no. That was actually ‘I’m busy, please ask me out on a different night’.”
“Then why didn’t she just say that?”
“Women rarely say what they mean.”
“Why not? That would sure make things a lot easier on us guys.”
“You’re preaching to the choir on that one son, but don’t hold your breath waiting for it to happen.”
Trevor thought long and hard about the lesson he’d just received. Then he looked his father square in the eye. “Does Mom lie?”
Duddly, who’d been sleeping soundly underneath the kitchen table, suddenly woke up and made a whining noise. Dave got up from his chair and let him out the back door. It gave him more time to figure out his answer. A son puts his mother up on a pedestal and Dave didn’t have the heart to topple it over. He gave his best political non-answer. “You’re mother’s a special case.”
Dave spent the next hour giving Trevor additional examples on interpreting what women say, what they don’t say, and the hidden meanings. Trevor said he’d give it another try at the grocery store in the coming week and report back next Saturday.
* * *
Trevor was standing in the produce section watching the various women shopping and didn’t notice Amanda come up behind him.
“I had a feeling the lady who complained about a stalker in the store would have something to do with you,” Amanda said. “It’s a good thing I convinced her not to call security.”
Trevor turned, his face taking on a crimson tone.
“What – somebody complained? I’m not stalking them. I’m just trying to figure out which ones would be a good match for me.”
Amanda folded her arms across her chest. “And you think you can determine that by watching them pick out tomatoes?”
Trevor tried to put on a brave face. “No, but I thought I might get a sense of their personalities by watching how they shop. You know, do they look at each tomato before deciding which one to buy, or do they just grab three from the top of the pile and throw ‘em in the cart.”
“Oh, my mistake,” Amanda said. “I didn’t know you were using a scientific approach.”
“You making fun of me?”
“Me? Never. I just don’t think you can determine whether a person is right for you without actually getting to know them first.”
Trevor sighed. “It’s just that I don’t seem to be meeting the right kind of girl for me. Every date seems doomed right from the start, so I thought I’d do a little up-front scouting.” Trevor pointed to one of the women. “Take that redhead over there. Do you think she’d be compatible with me?”
“No,” Amanda quickly replied.
“Why not? She’s tall, good looking – looks like she’s friendly.”
“She’s also married with two kids.”
“How can you tell?” Trevor asked. “She’s not wearing a wedding ring.”
“She shops here all the time,” Amanda said. “Some women take their rings off when they go to the gym. Trust me, I’ve seen her here with her husband and kids.”
Trevor pointed to another woman. “Okay, how about that blonde over there – the one with the pony-tail?”
“Nope.”
“How about that girl over there with the tattoo?”
“Definitely not!”
Trevor took on a defensive posture. “You think it’s stupid to look for girls in the grocery store, don’t you?”
“I didn’t say that. You never know where you’re going to meet the girl that’s right for you, but maybe you should try something other than hanging out in the fruits and vegetables department. Where’d you come up with that idea anyway?”
Trevor was embarrassed to tell her he was getting advice from his father. “Uh…I forget. I think I read about it in a magazine.”
“Yeah, that sounds like something they’d put in a men’s magazine. Maybe you should just look at the pictures like the other guys and not read the articles.”
Now, Trevor was even more embarrassed. “I didn’t say it was a men’s magazine.”
“Well it wasn’t Psychology Today – I can assure you that.”
Amanda looked at her watch. “Look, I have to get back to my checkout. You can continue to browse, but try not to do anything too creepy or someone’s going to call security.”
Trevo
r watched her walk away. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to try a new strategy.
* * *
Dave was surprised when Trevor showed up at his house on the following Thursday night. Fortunately, his wife was out with friends. Trevor had a definite spring in his step and seemed full of confidence.
“You look happy,” Dave said. “You must have had a good week.”
“I did,” Trevor replied. “I got some advice and decided to expand my territory.”
Dave felt worried because he didn’t remember giving Trevor any such advice. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Remember, you said to think big, to look beyond the horizon, and not just go after the low hanging fruit.”
“Yeah, I remember saying that. What did you do?”
“I’ve moved onto bigger and better things,” Trevor said.
Now Dave felt downright scared.
“I’ve moved out of fruits and vegetables and into the meat section,” Trevor explained.
Dave was now regretting his suggestion about meeting girls in grocery stores.
“I think girls who eat meat are more my type,” Trevor continued. “I guess I’m more of a meat and potatoes kind of guy. Besides, I was starting to develop Irritable Bowel Syndrome with all of the vegetables I was eating.”
“You do realize that most women shop in more than one department,” Dave said. “You can’t just classify them as meat-eaters or vegetarians. Women are complex.”
Trevor ignored the warning. “I got three telephone numbers and parlayed that into two dates this weekend – one for Friday night and another for Saturday afternoon.”
Dave had never heard Trevor use the word parlay before and wondered if he knew he could lose everything if he started thinking like a gambler who continued to double-down. But there was no stopping his momentum.
“That’s why I came over tonight,” Trevor said. “Can we move our Saturday morning lesson this week to Sunday morning?”
Dave knew his wife would be at church on Sunday. “I guess so,” he said.
Trevor continued to bubble with excitement. “You know what, Dad? Finding girls in the meat department is actually easier than in fruits and vegetables. You don’t have to seek them out; they come to you. I must have had five different women approach me this week while I was in the meat department. They were asking me things like which was the better cut of meat – sirloin or prime rib. Can you believe that? By the way, what’s the right answer?”
Dave ignored the question for two reasons. One, he didn’t know the answer and two, he was detecting that there was now a bigger problem. When Trevor was trolling the produce section, he was the one looking to meet women. Now that he’d moved into the meat section, it was the women who were doing the searching.
“Tell me more about these women you’ve got dates with,” Dave said.
“On Friday I’m going to see that new Ryan Gosling movie with Sharon. She said her old boyfriend was never willing to go see a chick-flick.”
“Old boyfriend?”
“Yeah, she said she just got out of a relationship with someone who only wanted to do guy things.”
Dave grabbed his gut as if he was suddenly developing an ulcer. “How long ago did she break up with this guy?”
“I don’t know,” Trevor replied. “She didn’t say.”
A yellow warning light started flashing in Dave’s head.
“What about your date on Saturday?”
“That’s with Eileen. We’re going to the hockey game in the afternoon.”
“That sounds promising,” Dave said, “but I heard they were all sold out. Are you sure you can still get tickets?”
“She’s already got them – a pair behind the players’ bench. She said the person she normally goes with couldn’t go this weekend, so she had a spare ticket.”
The warning light in Dave’s head went from yellow to bright red. Women who trolled the meat department weren’t just looking to meet a new guy; they were looking to replace the guy they already had. “Who does she normally go with?”
“She didn’t say. Does it matter?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Dave said. “I guess you’ll find out.”
* * *
Trevor came limping into the kitchen the following Sunday morning sporting a cut on his chin and the remnants of a black eye.
“What the hell happened to you?” Dave asked.
“What does it look like? I got my ass kicked.”
Dave immediately thought of Trevor’s Friday night date. “I guess her old boyfriend wasn’t really out of the picture yet, eh?”
“No, Friday night’s date wasn’t the problem,” Trevor said. “I got blindsided with a high stick on Saturday afternoon.”
“I thought you were just watching a hockey game, not playing in one. What happened?”
Trevor sat down at the kitchen table. “It’s a long story. I better start at the beginning. I met Eileen outside of the arena on Saturday afternoon, just like we planned, and then we picked up some snacks at the concession stand and went to our seats. It was really awkward at the start because I think we were both nervous and we were barely saying anything to each other, but it got better after the game started.”
“That’s normal for a first date,” Dave said. “It takes a while until two people feel comfortable around each other.”
“Eileen knows a lot about hockey, so we mostly talked about that,” Trevor said. “It wasn’t until the intermission between the second and third periods that she told me she normally goes to the games with her son.”
“Her son?”
“Yeah, she told me she has a five-year-old son, but he was with his father for the weekend.”
“So his father is still in the picture then,” Dave said hesitantly.
“Yeah, he gets the kid every second weekend. I actually got to meet him when I drove Eileen home after the game. Jordan, that’s the kid, and his dad were playing hockey in the driveway when we drove up.”
Dave had the sick feeling he was about to hear how Trevor had obtained the cuts and bruises on his face. “Don’t tell me his father hit you with a hockey stick.”
“No, the father was great. It was the kid who hit me – twice!”
“What happened?”
“When we drove up and saw them playing hockey in the driveway, Eileen and I joined in and took on Jordan and his dad just for fun.”
Trevor got up from his chair, grabbed the broom by the back door and held it as if it was a goalie stick. “I was playing goal and the kid had a breakaway on me. I knew he was going to try to go five-hole, so I went down to make the save – like this. I deliberately gave him a rebound – you know – to give him a chance. He tried to pick the top corner on his next shot, but his stick came up and cut me on the chin. I think it was an accident.” Trevor gently stroked the cut, which was obviously still sensitive. “It was bleeding quite a bit so Eileen cleaned it up and put a bandage on it. She teasingly kissed it better and that’s when the little shit hit me again with his stick – and that time, I know he did it on purpose.”
Dave didn’t mean to chuckle, but couldn’t hold it in. “So it was the kid who was jealous, not the father.”
“I guess,” Trevor admitted.
“Are you going to see Eileen again?”
“No, I don’t think I’m ready to take on a relationship that complex.”
Dave had to agree with the assessment. “So, how did your Friday night date go?”
“Well there was no blood spilled, if that’s what you mean, but it was sort of a non-event. We got along okay, but I never really know what to say on a date.”
“Why don’t we discuss that at our next lesson,” Dave suggested. “In the meantime, you might want to get that chin looked at. It looks like a pretty nasty gash.”
* * *
Trevor wiped his bleeding chin with a tissue while he made his way to the checkout counter at the local Mega-Shop store.
“Hey Romeo,” Amanda s
aid as he approached. “What happened to you?”
“I got hit with a high stick playing hockey,” Trevor said. “I can’t get it to stop bleeding.”
Amanda looked at the package of bandages in his hand. “I don’t think those are the right kind,” she said. “Did you ask anyone in our pharmacy department?”
“No, I didn’t want to bother them, so I just grabbed this box off the display at the end of the aisle.”
There weren’t many shoppers in the store at the time so Amanda put up her “Please go to next lane” sign. She waved at her supervisor. “Is it okay if I take a ten minute break to help a customer?”
Her supervisor gave her a thumbs-up signal.
“Follow me,” Amanda said.
She led Trevor back to the pharmacy department. The store carried practically every kind of bandage so she was confident they’d have something that would work.
“Let me see how bad it is,” Amanda said.
Amanda removed the existing bandage and shook her head. “This is for a cut finger.”
“Do you think I need stitches?” Trevor asked.
Amanda took the tissue from Trevor and carefully cleaned the wound. “No. It’s a pretty long gash, but it’s not too deep.”
She searched the shelves until she found the type of bandage she was looking for. “This should work.”
She led Trevor over to a seat in front of the blood-pressure machine, the type the senior citizens use to check their pressure every time they’re in the store. Trevor sat down and she knelt in front of him, then carefully applied a long thin bandage, making sure to pull the wound closed as she did so.
“Why did you call me Romeo?” Trevor asked.
Amanda smiled. “Sorry about that. It’s what the guys in the Produce Department call you. I overheard them talking about you in the break room the other day. It appears your prowess with the girls has become quite the talk.”
“This is so embarrassing,” Trevor said.
“Quite the contrary,” Amanda countered. “You’re their hero. I think they place bets on whether you’re going to be successful or not.”