What a Nice Guy by Phil Torcivia

Friday, April 15, 2011

VPS


      It’s time to find a new garage for Willy. He’s cold. I hate to ask for directions, so I whip out my VPS, type in my intended destination, and receive the following turn-by-turn guidance:
1.       Shower and shave, paying special attention to you-know-which areas.
2.       Cologne—one spritz. Don’t bathe in it and please don’t spray it directly on Willy. He (and others) don’t appreciate the taste as much as the smell. Just sayin’.
3.       Dark jeans, shoes, and shirt. Easy on the holes and bedazzling. You’re not in high school anymore.
4.       Go to a bar. (No, not a sports bar, ass.)
5.       Find an attractive woman and make eye contact without staring like a desperate douche who hasn’t been laid since Reagan.
      OK, I followed the directions and found me a lovely morsel. I made eye-contact and rescued her from the unwelcome advances of another. Wow, she just moved and sat next to me. There’s one itsy-bitsy issue: She’s taller than I am.
6.       Take a detour, half-pint.
      No, damn you! I don’t give a shit how tall she is. She’s lovely.
7.       Take a detour, fidget.
      Not doing it.
8.       You’ll get lost. Take a detour, stumpy.
      Nope. I’m just going to remain seated so she doesn’t think I’m a spinner.
9.       You’re eventually going to have to get up, Joe Pesci.
      Maybe she likes shorter men.
10.    Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Start asking her questions. Oh, and skip the sexual ones, will you? Here’s a good opener: “What’s your passion?”
      Fine, but what if she says, “Raising pitbulls”?
11.    Then take a detour.
      The coast is clear. Her passion is cooking. Now what? Can I undo her bra yet?
12.    Sure, if you want to crash into a wall. Concentrate. Keep asking her questions about what she likes to do, where she travels, and what she reads.
      Excellent. This is a wonderful VPS. I think I’ll buy the app for my iPhone too. How do I go about phone number extraction?
13.    Ask.
      Yay! I have her phone number. Can I call her now?
14.    She’s sitting right next to you.
      What if the number is bogus—like to Alcoholics Anonymous or something?
15.    Then I’m going to laugh at you and talk about this on my Facebook page. Do not call or text her for twenty-four hours.
      Not even a text? Chicks love texting.
16.    Don’t you fucking do it.
      How about just a “nice meeting you” with a winking smiley face?
17.    Don’t.
      Fine.
18.    After twenty-four hours, send her a witty text and wait for her response before sending another one. She may have given you her number because she felt sorry for you. If that was the case, she’ll ignore your text. If you continue texting and calling her, you’ll become “that creepy guy I met at a bar.”
      Damn it. OK.
      (Twenty-four hours and one minute later …)
      The text has been delivered. I signed it, “Phil, that cute guy you sat next to last night. The one you can’t wait to see again. He’s not that short, actually. He can wear heels.”
19.    You’re straying into Sillyville. Stop it. Do not stare at your phone. A watched pot doesn’t get smoked.
      Yippee! She responded!
20.    Wait. Don’t text her back too quickly. Wait an hour, minimum.
      But, I want to.
21.    Pace yourself. If she’s interested, within the next five messages she’ll request an actual phone call.
      Then what do I do?
22.    You are truly a road hazard—worse than an eighty-year-old Asian blue-hair driving at night in sunglasses while doing sudoku on her steering wheel. YOU CALL HER and ask her out.
      Harsh.
23.    Do it.
      Fine. I hope I'm getting closer to my destination. Willy is restless.

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