On the Rocks(50)

“I’m Victor,” the guy said, as if I had bothered to ask his name. “My friends call me Vic.”

“In that case, hello, Victor,” I said. Bobby flashed a quick smile, but Victor didn’t pick up on my subtle insult. In fact, I don’t think this guy would pick up on anything less subtle than a cartoon-style frying pan to the head.

“Are you from the area? Or just here for the summer?” he asked as he angled himself so that his back was turned toward Bobby, almost boxing him out of the conversation entirely. Every guy I’d met this summer had used some version of that as his opening line. Someone really needed to come up with better material than “Are you from around here?” or “Come here often?”

“Just for the summer. What about you?” I glanced at Bobby. At least now he’d fully understand my unique ability to attract weirdos.

“I live here year-round. I’m a postal delivery professional.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” I said, trying to be polite. I couldn’t have cared less if he owned half the mansions in town. He was creeping me out big time.

“Has anyone ever told you that if you had brown hair you’d look like a cross between Sophia Loren, Rachael Ray, and J Lo?” He smiled wide, genuinely impressed with himself for coming up with what he perceived to be a staggering compliment. He probably expected me to stand and tell him to take me home at once, because lines like that actually worked once upon a time. Bobby choked on his drink and raised his eyebrows while Victor continued to pretend he didn’t exist.

“No, Victor. I can honestly say that no one has ever told me that before,” I replied, still trying to be polite but starting to fail. I briefly wondered if there was a difference between being told you looked like J Lo, Jenny from the Block, or Jennifer Lopez. I was pretty sure in one of those versions you had to wear velour sweat suits and hang off Ben Affleck like a hood ornament. I made a mental note to check the Internet when I got home to see which one was which.

“Well, it’s true. You should know that.”

“I don’t think she can cook, though,” Bobby chimed in. “She ruined pasta the other night, so maybe she could do thirty-hour meals, but thirty-minute meals is out of the question unless you just want her to boil water.”

Victor shot a glance at Bobby, letting him know he didn’t appreciate the interference, which was hysterical since he was the one who had interrupted us to begin with. I was beginning to wonder if this guy was playing with a full stack of envelopes.

“Thank you, that’s a nice compliment.” In a parallel universe where it makes sense that you and I are even having this conversation.

“How about you let me show you the island?” he asked, flashing his creepy, yellow-toothed smile for the second time in as many minutes.

“I’ve been showing her around actually,” Bobby said. It was kind of fun feeling like two guys were fighting over me, even if I wasn’t interested in either of them.

“On land?” Victor asked.

“Yeah, my seaplane’s in the shop, and she left her magic flying broom in the city,” Bobby shot back, proving that his wits were sharper than most.

“I have a boat, and I’d be happy to take you out on the water and show you the island that way. It’s pretty amazing,” Victor said.

“I don’t think so,” I said curtly.

“Are you sure? It’s going to be a gorgeous weekend.”

Before I could tell Victor to go drown himself, Wolf bounded into the bar, and Bobby immediately waved him over. Victor stepped back as Wolf approached, clearly more intimidated by him than he was by Bobby, not that I could blame him. A six-five German will evoke a different reaction than a scrawny American any day.

“Hey, guys,” Wolf said as he patted both of our backs. “Who’s your friend?” he asked, staring at Victor.

“Oh, this is Victor, we just met him. Victor, this is our friend Wolf, and I don’t think you actually met Bobby either.” I took the opportunity to point out that Bobby and I were in fact together because I didn’t like the way this complete stranger was disrespecting him. He was a mailman, for God's sake. Not the mayor.

“Hey,” Bobby said as he shook Victor’s hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Wolf added as he ordered a glass of wine on our tab.

“Uhh, well, I won’t interrupt you guys anymore. Enjoy your evening. And here’s my number,” Victor said as he removed a pen from his breast pocket and scribbled on a napkin. “If you change your mind about coming out on my boat, let me know.”

“A boat?” Wolf said, wide-eyed, not realizing that that trip would probably end with my appendages sawed off and packed in a cooler.

“We’ll talk about it later, Wolf, okay?” I asked, hoping that Victor wouldn’t mistake Wolf’s enthusiasm as an extension of my own.

“Cool!” Wolf replied, as happy as ever. “I’m going to go say hi to some people in the back. Talk to you guys later.” Wolf grabbed his wine and headed toward a group of girls at the back of the bar. I wished that I had one-tenth of his courage. It would make dating a whole lot easier.

“Bye, Victor,” I said as I shook his hand and turned my back to let him know in no uncertain terms that this conversation was over. He should consider himself lucky. Sophia Loren would’ve thrown his ass in the Arno ten minutes ago.