On the Rocks(40)

I was really beginning to despise modern technology.

“You guys are all pigs,” Grace said as she hopped up off her chair, removed a bottle of wine from the rack, and began fishing through the kitchen drawers for the corkscrew.

Before I could probe Bobby further as to how common this practice was, Wolf returned from a run and popped into our living room, his earphones hanging around his sweaty neck like a scarf.

“Hey, guys. What are we talking about?” he asked as he went straight to the kitchen and removed a bottle of coconut water from the fridge. That’s it, I thought. I’m padlocking the refrigerator.

“Abby being ditched by a guy who highlights his hair,” Bobby said.

“Would you shut up about that?” I yelled. “Wolf, I thought you were going to set me up with Paul. What happened to that?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you that I talked to him on Monday. He wants to meet you, little Abs! You’re set for next week. Saturday night, okay?”

“And here you were ready to fire poor Wolf when he’s been working so hard to find you a man.”

“I don’t want to be fired!” Wolf said. “Fired from what?”

“Don’t worry about it, Wolf. Thanks so much for setting this up! I’m looking forward to it. Ignore Bobby. He’s an idiot.”

“Okeydokey,” Wolf said with a shrug.

“What are you mad at me for?” Bobby asked.

“I’m not mad. I’m still shocked that you use memory devices for girls in your phone. I mean, how many girls can you possibly date at one time? Crosby, Stills, and Nash? Seriously?”

“Yep. I thought it sounded cooler than putting her in there as Bing Crosby, don’t you think? And to be clear here, these aren’t girls I was actually dating. They’re just girls I met. Half of them I never saw again.”

“Who’s Bing Crosby?” Wolf asked, understandably confused after walking into the middle of this ridiculous conversation. Though it was equally unnerving to find out there was someone on this planet who didn’t know who Bing Crosby was.

“Almost a nickname for a girl I met once,” Bobby replied nonchalantly.

“I don’t get it,” Wolf said.

“My thoughts exactly,” I said. At least someone else in this room was normal. It seemed the foreign national and myself were the only people who weren’t aware that this was common practice. I wasn’t sure what to think about that.

“American girls are weird,” Wolf added as he shook his head, perplexed.

“No, we’re not,” I said in defense of girls everywhere, which really wasn’t a fair assessment. I knew some who should be wearing straitjackets for sure.

“Oh yes, you are,” Bobby said as he stretched his arms above his head.

“Well, look at what we’re dealing with. If you’re the prime example of today’s man, no wonder some of us have gone a bit batty. You are the poster child for dysfunction,” I teased. If we were going to have this conversation, then I was going to have a drink. I motioned to Grace to pour me a glass too.

“I’m a shining example of what a normal, red-blooded American male is thinking. I told you, you should use me a resource,” Bobby reminded me.

“I think the saltwater has damaged your brain,” I said, still reeling from the possibility that Ryan had saved my number in his phone under something other than “Abby.” I was beginning to understand why some girls stole phones and searched them. Maybe they weren’t that crazy after all.

“Fine, whatever, don’t listen to me, but you’re only hurting yourself. Why aren’t you on Facebook anyway? I looked you up after Grace said you were staying in the house. You’re the only girl I know who doesn’t have an active profile.”

I refused to answer his question. I was not about to tell Bobby what had led me down the road to deactivation. So I lied. “For that exact reason. I don’t want guys like you making predetermined judgments about me before you even meet me. And besides, every girl I know uses that stupid thing to spy on people or just be nosy (myself included). No thanks. I’d rather not subject myself to that. I value my privacy.”

“Well, if Grace hadn’t promised me you weren’t a troll, I might have thought twice about hanging with you all summer. I’m telling you, it matters.”

“Gee, thanks. You sure do know how to give a compliment,” I said, poking the pasta with the spoon to see if it was still crunchy.

“Look, we can solve your problems right now. Go put your bikini back on and go sit on the deck with a cocktail, and I’ll take your picture. Better yet, only put on the bottom and I’ll take your picture. Then we’ll set your profile up again and wait for the floodgates to open.”

“Okay, that is ridiculous,” Grace said in my defense as she sipped her wine. “No guy is that shallow. She could get fired for doing something like that. I’d imagine the nuns at her school prefer their teachers to keep their clothes on.”

“We are all that shallow,” Bobby deadpanned.

“See, this is the problem with dating,” I said as I turned my focus solely on Bobby because he was the only American-born male in the room and therefore the only worthy recipient of my wrath. “Do you realize how stupid this has all become?”