THE BRO-MAGNET (19 page)

I’m starting to get really offended at the ongoing theme emerging here. “My clothes aren’t real?”

“No, not really. And that hat. You’ve got to lose the hat.”

“What’s wrong with the hat?”
“Did you know that Barings Bank, the oldest merchant bank in London, was brought down in 1995 by a guy in a backwards baseball cap?”
“I did not know that,” I say, feeling admonished. I slide the cap off my head, hold it in my lap.

“It’s true. The guy’s name was Nick Leeson. Look it up if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you.”

“Nearly everything that’s wrong with this world can be traced to some guy somewhere wearing a backwards baseball cap.”

“You’ve made your point.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked for my help.” She starts to rise.

“And I want it, I want it. Please.” I wave her back down. “Sit.”

She sits.

“OK, I need to change my whole wardrobe. I get it. I can do this thing.”

“Boxers or briefs?”

“Excuse me?”

Alice enunciates like I’m a moron. “Do you wear boxers or briefs?”

This is getting personal, but…

“Boxers,” I finally admit.

“Good,” she says, approvingly for once. Then she adds, eyes narrowing, “There aren’t cartoon characters on them or anything like that, are there?”

“No!” Sheesh.

“Good.”

“But that can’t be all,” I say. “I change my wardrobe and get the girl?”

“No, of course that’s not
all
. You’ve got to talk to a woman, ask her questions about herself.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Good. At least someone else is giving you some decent advice. But you’ve also got to take an interest in
her
interests. Most women don’t want to hear about the Mets’ latest trade.”

“Yeah, I finally figured that out on my own.”

“A woman likes to feel as though you’re not just pretending an interest for her sake either. A woman likes to feel that you’ve found a way to like the thing for the thing itself so that when you discuss the thing, your conversations are lively.”

 The thing, the thing, she keeps saying “the thing” – what thing?

 “The thing? Like, what sort of ‘the thing’ am I supposed to be taking a genuine interest in?”

“
General Hospital
.”

“
General Hospital
?”

“Only call it GH, makes you sound more in-the-know.”

“And you’re saying I should actually watch that thing?”

She shrugs. “Billy does.”

“And he’s been able to – what was that thing you said? – find a way to like the thing for the thing itself?”

“Yes. In the beginning, he said he couldn’t see the appeal. But then he started treating it like any other sport. You know, finding a way to bring stats into it, earned-run averages for different characters. He says Sonny’s box scores for getting different women pregnant are off the charts.” She rolls her eyes when she says this last part, and I figure she thinks Billy’s a dope for doing the stat thing with GH, but then I notice there’s actually a lot of love in that eye roll.

“And you think if I start watching
General Hospital
– I mean, GH – that this woman will actually like me more?”

“Couldn’t hurt. Every woman I know watches GH. It’s like our universal language.”

Inside I’m thinking,
But Helen’s not like every woman. Helen’s different, special.
I’ve learned quickly in this conversation, however, not to give voice to such thoughts. If I do, Alice will take the implication to be that she’s not special. And besides, Alice must know what she’s talking about when it comes to women. Why, up until I met Helen, Alice was the female yardstick I measured all other women by.

“OK, I’ll change my wardrobe and start watching GH. What else? I’ve got a date with her next Saturday, but I haven’t figured out where to take her yet.”

“Do I have to do everything for you?” Alice looks around the room, spots stacks of real-estate booklets and
The Penny-Saver
on a ledge by the front door.

She goes over and grabs something.

What? Now she’s going to tell me I need to buy a new home to impress Helen?

But no. She comes back with
The Penny-Saver
.

“Here.” She tosses it at me.

“What’s this?”

“
The Penny-Saver
.”

“I know but – ”

“Really, do I have to do everything?” She grabs it back from me, starts flipping through. “There’s an activities and events section here. It’s always filled with all kinds of things – plays, flower shows, festivals – the kinds of things women like to be taken to. Here, you go through it. I gotta go. I’m meeting Stacy at the mall to do some shopping.” She hands it back to me.

“But I don’t know what – ”

“Fine.” Now she’s really exasperated as she grabs it back yet again. “Here, look. The circus is coming to town.”

“The circus?”

“Yes, the circus. Women love the circus. Win her a prize.”

They have prizes at the circus?

* * *

I arrive home shortly afterward,
Penny-Saver
in hand, to find Sam lying on my couch watching the tail end of the Mets game.

“Where’d you go?” she asks.

“I met Alice for coffee. I thought maybe she could give me some advice about Helen.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

“Not so good really.”

“No?”

“No. I don’t think she knows all that much more than we do.”

“Why? What’d she tell you?”

“She told me to watch
General Hospital
and then she gave me a copy of
The Penny-Saver
.”

Sam snorts. “Fucking Alex.”

“Hey.” I get an idea. “I need to go to the mall to get some new clothes anyway. Wanna come with me and hit the bookstore on the way back? I think maybe I need more help than mere human beings can give me.”

Who should we run into coming out of J.C. Penney, just as we’re walking in?

Alice and Stacy.

“What’d you get?” I say, eyeing the big bags they’re carrying.

“New sheets,” Alice says.

“Some dinnerware,” Stacy says.

“How’s Drew?” I ask Stacy. “I haven’t seen him around lately.”

“Busy. Working.”

“Tell him we’ll expect him for poker Friday night.”

“What are you two shopping for?” Alice asks me.

“New clothes,” I say, feeling embarrassed. She’s with Stacy. Does everyone need to know what I’m doing? “Like you told me to.”

“Wrong J,” Alice says. Then she takes me by the elbow, physically turning me in a different direction. “You need to get your clothes at J. Crew.”

“But that’s so much more expensive,” Sam objects on my behalf.

“Do you want to impress the girl or don’t you?” Alice asks me.

I shuffle my feet. “I guess.”

Once we’re in J. Crew, Sam surprises me by being helpful in picking out clothes and I surprise both of us by looking good in them.

“Ready to hit the bookstore?” I say as we exit the mall.

* * *

Once in the bookstore, while Sam looks over the bestsellers on the front table I make straight for the Information desk. As I wait for the clerk’s attention, Sam wanders over.

“What’re you doing?” she asks.

I ignore her.

When the clerk finally turns to me, I lean across the counter and whisper, “Where do I find the books on relationships? You know, male-female stuff?”

“Christ!” Sam laughs.

“Shh,” I say.

“Stop whispering and shushing people,” Sam says. “It’s a bookstore, not a library.”

The clerk, no doubt trained to help people rather than laughing in their faces, leads us to a section with a big sign over it: RELATIONSHIPS.

Huh. How could I have missed seeing that on my own?

“Are you looking for any title in particular?” she asks.

“Not really,” I say. “I was kind of hoping for something just generally self-help-ish. You know, something basic, like a how-to guide for how to have a relationship without lousing everything up.”

“How about this?” she suggests, reaching for a yellow-and-black book in the center of the shelf.

“
Relationships for Dummies
,” I read the title. “That’s a little bit insulting, but yeah, this could work.”

“There’s also this,” the clerk says, handing me another yellow-and-black book, “just in case you need something to help get the relationship started.”

“
Dating for Dummies
?” I read the title. “Oh yeah. I could definitely use this.”

“Oh, and if you need help in another department?” The clerk, now assured that I’m actually going to buy something, is suddenly very helpful. She reaches for the lowest shelf, extracts another yellow-and-black book.

“
Sex for Dummies
?” I’m offended. “Hey, there’s no need to get carried away here. I
think
I can figure that one out on my own.”

The clerk scampers off and I head toward the counter to pay.

“You coming?” I turn back when I realize Sam’s not by my side.

I turn just in time to see her snag two books off the shelves. Sam waves the books at me:
Dating for Dummies
and
Relationships for Dummies
.

“Hey,” she says. “If you’re going to get educated, I’m certainly not going to let myself be left behind.”

* * *

Monday afternoon at three finds Sam and me sitting on the couch in front of my TV. Arrayed on the table in front of us is a six-pack of beer so we don’t have to keep running to the fridge, plus various bowls of salty foods.

“OK, let’s do this thing,” I say clicking on the TV to ABC.

Two minutes later, after a few teaser scenes and as the opening theme song plays, Sam says, “I can’t believe I’m watching this.”

“So what? I’m paying you, right?”

It’s true. I need to do my GH research but I can’t bring myself to watch alone, so I told Sam we’d break off work in time to watch every day this week. I had to promise I’d keep her on the clock until four to get her to agree.

Halfway through, I’m still confused. It’s a lot to digest, so many characters, plus everyone’s got a lot of history. I’m having trouble keeping all the characters straight although some do stand out.

“That Carly’s crazy, isn’t she?” I say.

“She’s hot,” Sam says.

“Do you understand why the Cassadines and the Spencers hate each other so much?”

“Not really. But it can’t help, Elizabeth Webber Spencer being pregnant and no one knowing if the baby is from Lucky Spencer or his half-brother Nikolas Cassidine, the Greek prince.”

I vaguely remember Alice and Dawn saying something about this situation a few months back.

When the show’s over, we break out our
Dummies
books and read, lying perpendicular on different sections of the sofa, feet meeting in the middle. We do this every day that week.

As the week rolls on, there are certain characters we never discuss by name because their names strike too close to home. There’s a Johnny who’s a gangster, a Sam who’s a female private detective, a Helena – a name very close to Helen – who’s a bitch, a Steve who’s a head surgeon, an Alice who’s a maid. As far as I can tell, there’s no Billy or Drew, and there’s definitely no Monte Carlo. But this is a soap. Characters get added and subtracted all the time and this could change at any minute.

By the time Friday’s episode rolls around, I feel as though I’m on much better footing.

“You know, this isn’t half bad?” Sam says when it breaks for a commercial.

“I know, right?” I say. “And Alice was totally right about Sonny. He’s got – what? – five kids from three different women?”

“Four,” Sam corrects. “Alexis’s second child is the daughter of Sonny’s brother, Ric.”

“Right.” I slap myself in the forehead. “Why can’t I ever remember that?”

“Maybe because Ric’s not on the show? Plus, don’t forget, Sonny also had a baby with Jason’s girlfriend, but that baby died. And Michael isn’t really Sonny’s son, he’s Jason’s dead brother’s son, even though everyone acts like he is.”

“So how many does that really make with how many different women?”

“I don’t know anymore. I’m starting to confuse myself.”

“Too true. It’s as bad as baseball with all the trades, trying to keep everyone straight. But Alice is right about Sonny. If he even looks at a woman, the woman winds up pregnant. Doesn’t anyone on this show use birth control? And what is it with that guy?”

“I don’t know, but if I wasn’t a lesbian, I’d do him.”

“What is it, the hair? Should I slick back my hair like that?”

I hold my hair back to demonstrate and Sam studies me briefly.

“Um, no,” she finally concludes. “On you, that doesn’t work.”

Gee, thanks, Sam.

In order to change the subject from Sam thinking my hair doesn’t look as hot as Sonny’s slicked back, I ask, “You think my bookie’s got a line on GH like he does on regular sports?”

“How should I know? He’s your bookie.” She thinks about it for a minute. “If he does, what would you want to bet on?”

“Who Sonny’s going to knock up next.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s your favorite for that?”

“Carly.”

“
Carly
? But they’ve already been married like four times plus they’ve already got one kid together and she’s still married to Jax.”

“I know, right? Still, I think they’re due again. It’s at least three-to-two odds, maybe even money.”

“You don’t win money on even money.”

“True. If my bookie does have a line, who’d you pick?”

“Elizabeth,” she says without hesitation.

“
Elizabeth
? But she’s knocked up right now. I’m pretty sure he can’t knock her up while she’s knocked up. I don’t think knocking up works that way. Don’t you know anything about sex? Maybe
you
should’ve gotten that
Sex for Dummies
book that salesclerk kept waving at me.”

I’m feeling pretty good about myself. I rarely get one off on Sam like that.

But Sam just gives me an elaborate eye-roll. “I didn’t mean he’d get her pregnant
right now
. I meant after she has the baby. Elizabeth’s fertile as hell, she has or soon will have had three different kids from three different fathers, and she’s running out of sperm donors. Sonny’d make the perfect father for her next kid. Plus, they’ve both got great dimples.”