THE BRO-MAGNET (21 page)

They’re definitely giving me the eye.

I tell Sam as much after I break, sinking two stripers, and accept my beer from her. I don’t even add anything about her pocketing all my change.

“See those two girls?” I say.

“Yeah, what about them?”

“I can’t figure out which one wants me more.”

Sam nearly spews her drink on me.

“It’s the pants, Sam, the pants. They’re definitely working. I don’t know why I didn’t shake up my wardrobe sooner. All these years, I could’ve been getting laid like clockwork! Instead of, you know, intermittently.”

“You want to get laid by those girls? But I thought you liked Helga.”

“I don’t, I do,” I answer her questions in the correct order. “But it is flattering to feel, you know, desirable.”

“And you think those two women desire you?”

“Yes.”

“And you think it’s because of the pants?”

Duh! “What else could it be?”

“They’re lesbians, Johnny.”

“Excuse me?”

“They’re lesbians, I’m guessing just two lesbian friends who like to hang together but are not involved with one another. And it’s not you they’re finding hot.” Sam gives a wave at the two women. “It’s me.”

And now things really are back to normal.

Oh, well. It was fun thinking women found me hot while it lasted. 

When I pick up Helen on Saturday, I’m wearing my new duds. I never could understand why women fuss so much over clothes but now I get it, even if those lesbians weren’t really giving me the eye last night. With my belted khakis – washed and dried when I got home last night – collared shirt and pair of brown shoes that have those little rough suede laces, I feel like I’m dressed for success, like this could be the day my life changes. I don’t even feel naked without my backward baseball cap.

It’s a warm spring day and as I hand Helen up into the front of my work truck, I can’t help but notice how the slight breeze causes the longish skirt of her sundress to hug the silhouette of her strong calf. Sam almost talked me into getting a rental car again, but 1) the banana yellow Porsche wasn’t available when I called the rental place and I figured it’d be too strange if I kept showing up in a different car each time we go on a date, if we do indeed keep going out on dates, and 2) I figured in just this one thing I would be my true self – I paint for a living, no denying it, and if Helen can’t accept me being a painter and everything that goes with that, like the work truck, maybe she’s not the girl for me.

Helen doesn’t flinch at the truck, nor does she ask me why I’m not driving a banana Porsche anymore, and I figure: so far, so good.

“It’s a beautiful day for the circus,” she says as I climb into the driver’s seat.

After agreeing, I key the engine and as soon I do that, the radio which is always on springs to life and the truck is filled with the sound of The Wave.

I reach to quickly turn the dial before I’m outed as being a hardcore sports fan but Helen is holding the dial firm.

Recapping from the last hour, not all fans are in agreement about the latest trades by the Jets. In fact, as one of our favorite callers pointed out just yesterday…

There’s a click as the host of The Wave cues the previously recorded clip and a new voice fills the truck.

What kind of garbage is this?
the female voice says. I’ve heard this voice on The Wave only once before, the voice I immediately thought of as Sexy Caller. At the time it sounded naggingly familiar – like when you see some young actress nominated for an Oscar for a serious role and you can’t place her big-toothed smile for the longest time until you remember, ‘Oh yeah, right, she was in that really popular movie the critics hated’ – but I couldn’t place the voice then and I still can’t place it.
First, Thomas Jones. And now, Kerry Rhodes
.
What the hell are the Jets doing? Does management not remember what it was like having a disappointing team? So they finally have one season that is not a disappointment and now they’re going to get rid of some of the components in the equation that made them almost great in the hopes of getting someone better? Where is the loyalty in modern sports? Where is the sense of the people who helped you get where you are? Where is the –

Helen shoots me a quick look and then spins the dial far away from The Wave. Well, of course she does. Except for Sam upon occasion, and Sexy Caller, women are never interested in listening to The Wave.

“What was that?” she says as music fills the truck.

“Oh, that?” Think fast, Johnny. Do you claim no knowledge of it at all? That might be safest. But it was right on that station and it came on just as soon as you keyed the engine. She’s a D.A. Won’t she find that suspicious? “I think it’s called The Wave?” Come on, Johnny, you’re not even fooling yourself here. Why would you have a station obviously preprogrammed on your radio and then pretend you don’t know it? She’ll know; she’s got to.

“You have a station preprogrammed on your own truck and you’re not even sure what that station is?”

See? I knew she’d be smart that way. Man, this dating stuff is tough.

“Yes, it’s definitely called The Wave,” I say with greater certainty. “I don’t really listen to it myself. You know, all that sports stuff. It’s so boring.”

“Then why was it on as soon as you turned on the engine?”

Oh, she is good.

And then inspiration strikes.

“Sam!” I practically shout, I’m so happy. It’s the equivalent of screaming, “Yes!” when your team scores.

“Sam?” Helen’s puzzled.

“You know, Sam, that woman that works with me?”

Helen nods.

“Well, see, Sam’s this huge sports fanatic.” True. “And Sam listens to The Wave, like, all the time.” I roll my eyes. Of course I’m exaggerating. Sam doesn’t mind The Wave occasionally but mostly she likes to just watch sports, not listen to people talk about it endlessly on the radio like I do.

“But Sam’s not here,” Helen says.

“And that is an excellent point,” I admit. She’s wearing me down. I’m still smiling but if this goes on much longer, no doubt I’ll confess everything, including about breaking Mrs. Knox’s window that time I was six and we were playing tackle basketball.

“But see,” I go on, “when Sam works for me, she insists I have The Wave on the radio all the time – you know, as part of her bonus package. That Sam, she’s such a nut. She says it’s better than full medical.”

“But Sam’s not here,” Helen says again.

She’s not going to let this go.

“Yes, I do know that,” I say.

“So why are you listening to Sam’s station when she’s not even here?”

All right with the thumbscrews already!

“Because,” I say simply, “it was on when I got in the truck and I guess I just never changed the channel because I didn’t even notice it. My mind was on something else. I was too busy thinking and I guess I never even noticed The Wave as anything other than background noise.”

Which is true. I was too busy being both nervous and looking forward to my date with Helen that for once I didn’t even pay any attention to what they were saying on The Wave. Although now that I did pay attention briefly when we first got in the truck, I’m thinking I agree with Sexy Caller. Where is the loyalty? It sucks, the Jets letting Jones and Rhodes go.

“What were you so busy thinking about,” Helen asks, “that you didn’t even notice a sports radio station playing all the way from your house to mine?”

“I was looking forward to seeing you and going to the circus with you,” I admit, helpless under the onslaught of her prosecutorial prowess. “I was thinking of you.”

I can honestly say that in the entire history of my life I have never said anything that charmed a member of the opposite sex like this.

But as I glance over now to see how Helen’s taking what I said I see that she is just that:

Charmed.

* * *

It’s a circus
and
a carnival!

For the rest of the drive here, we simply listened to music from the radio, which was perfect. After charming Helen, I didn’t want to run the risk of
un
charming her. But now we’re here and the fact that this is a circus
and
a carnival is perfect too. I don’t know what I expected when I saw the circus listed in
The Penny-Saver
– maybe a few mangy elephants and an acrobat or two? – but I never expected that right next to the circus there’d be a whole carnival set up, with rides and games and everything.

I love rides.

I love games.

One thing I do not love is…

“Eek! A clown!”

Yes, I’m ashamed to admit, that was me going
eek
.

Helen looks at me. “Did you just say ‘Eek!’?”

“I’m afraid so,” I admit. “I can’t help it. Clowns just freak me out.”

“You’re telling me,” she says, smiles. “Ever since I was little, I wondered, why do they have clowns at circuses? Is the goal to make everyone want to run away?”

“I know, right?” I’m psyched. This woman is…there are no words for it. She just seems to get the things that I get. “I don’t know what I was thinking inviting you here. I guess I forgot the clowns part of circuses.”

“It’s OK,” she says. “When you invited me, for some reason I forgot all about the clowns too. Maybe we should just go to the carnival part instead?”

“Good idea.”

As we’re walking to the booth to buy tickets, a clown passes us on the right.

“Eek!” I say, laughing at myself.

“Eek!” Helen laughs right along with me.

The line is long and I realize I need to find something to talk about, something Helen will be interested in, so…

“I can’t believe that Sonny,” I say with a shake of the head.

“Sonny?”

“Is he the most twisted person in the world or what? He shoots Dominic when Dominic’s not even armed, then when he finds out that Dominic is in fact his own son and that his real name is Dante, he blames everyone else under the sun for it.” I do my Sonny imitation. “ ‘Olivia, if you’d told me we made a baby together years ago, this never would have happened.’ ‘Patrick, if you told me the truth as soon as you learned it, I never would have shot him.’ What is up with that? Like if Dante hadn’t turned out to be his son, somehow it would have been perfectly acceptable for Sonny to shoot an unarmed cop? The man’s got an ego the size of Port Charles. I mean, come on, if – ”

“Um, John, what are you talking about? I don’t remember hearing about any of this in the news. Is this some kind of court case?”

I’m stunned. “I’m talking about GH. You know,
General Hospital
? I thought all women were up on
General Hospital
.”

I don’t understand this. Have I been wasting my time watching this soap? Not that I think
General Hospital
’s a waste, not now that I’m into it. But maybe I should have been watching
The Young & the Restless
instead?

“Oh,
General Hospital
!” she says. “I don’t know what made me think you were talking about a real case. Of course you’re talking about
General Hospital
. I don’t know how I could have gotten Sonny and Dominic and Dante confused with anything else.”

“That would be hard to do,” I say. “Then you do? Watch, I mean.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “Of course. Well, I’m not usually home from work in the afternoon, so I just, you know, TiVo it for later.”

“That’s what I do too,” I say, even though it’s a lie; I don’t want her to think I’m a lazy bum who shirks work to watch a soap. “I, you know, do that thing – I TiVo it.”

Truth time. I know I’m a guy and all but I’m not great with modern technology. Cars I get. Computery type things? Not so much.

“So,” she says, “you’ve been watching that for a long time, have you,
General Hospital
?”

I wave my own dismissive hand. “Forever. I’ve been watching since Sonny first got a girl pregnant by just looking at her funny.”

And finally it’s our turn.

“Two, please,” I tell the ticket taker.

* * *

We’re trying to decide which ride to go on first – decisions, decisions! – when we pass a game booth. It’s a basketball toss. The barker’s yelling at me, “Every player a winner! Don’t be a chump. Win the little lady a prize!”

I wouldn’t normally allow myself to be egged on by some guy inferring I could be a chump, but the barker really gets me with that “little lady” stuff. I remember how Leo always refers to his wife as The Little Lady and I decide this is something to aspire to: a little lady of my own.

“What do you think?” I shrug, raise my eyebrows at Helen. “Should I give it a go?”

She raises her eyebrows back, shrugs.

I pay my money for three throws, sink two of them.

“Not bad,” says the barker. “You have your choice of these prizes.” He waves his arm, displaying the lowest level of prizes adorning both sides of his booth. Let’s see… We have a choice of a key chain decorated with a single feather or a key chain decorated with a single puffball. Hmm… That’s a touch choice. Decisions, decisions.

“
Or
,” the barker says, “you
could
try your luck again. Sink two out of three again and you get to choose from the next level.”

The next level includes stuffed bears so small, if you made a circle with your thumb and forefinger the little bear could live inside.

I’m going to ask for the puffball key chain, just as soon as I can figure out how to say “puffball key chain” out loud without sounding like a complete moron, when Helen speaks up.

“Can I have a turn?”

“Absolutely.” I hand the barker a couple dollars more.

Helen shoots and scores. Three times.

By going three for three she bypasses the mini-bear level completely, leapfrogging straight to the mini-medium stuffed fish.

“You’re good,” I say.

“Beginner’s luck,” she says.

“You want the fish, or you want to shoot again for an upgrade?” the barker offers. “You’re on a roll.”

“You go,” Helen says to me.

So I pay and go, sinking all three this time. What can I say? Her sinking all three brings out the competitor in me.