Stuck-Up Suit(10)

“Try isn’t good enough. Get it right this time.” She slammed the door to her office, and I stuck up my middle finger. I told her.

I spent about an hour sifting through the pile until I found a few letters I thought I was capable of responding to Ida-style. My first few drafts resulted in wadded up balls of paper that missed the garbage can. Then I realized there was a trick to shoveling out shitty advice. First, I would draft the response how I thought it should read. Then, I would change each sentence to the exact opposite of what my advice would be. Amazingly enough, the two-step process seemed to really generate that Ida-esque vibe.



Dear Ida, Last year I caught my boyfriend cheating on me. He said it was a terrible mistake and promised it was a one-time thing. After a lot of heartache, I agreed to stay committed to our relationship. But I just can’t get over it. There is a man at work who I’m very attracted to. I think that if I slept with him, it might help me. Can two wrongs save a relationship?

Paula, Morningside Heights Step 1.

Dear Paula, Yes! Two wrongs don’t make a right, but they make a hell of a good excuse! Go for it! Sure, a relationship requires commitment, but then again so does insanity. Cheating isn’t a mistake; it’s a choice. Be real. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Get even, ride that hottie, then leave before your boyfriend does it again.



Step 2.

Dear Paula, No. Two wrongs never make a right. If you are truly committed to saving your relationship, you should avoid temptation at all costs. People make mistakes, but they can also learn from them and change. To err is human, to forgive divine. Be divine. Trust that he won’t do it again. Ride it out if you truly love him.



After I had gotten the hang of it, I knocked out two days’ worth of responses before giving them to Ida to review. When my phone buzzed mid-day, I was excited, expecting it to be Graham. As ridiculous as it was, I really looked forward to his angry, horny texts. Disappointment settled in finding a text from Aspen. I had forgotten all about our date for tonight. My immediate reaction was to cancel. But instead, I lied and wrote back I was looking forward to tonight. He was a friend of a friend who I met at a party and seemed like a really nice guy. Plus, sitting home and waiting for a text from a man who would never have an interest in a woman like me, was just plain sad.

After work, I made an extra effort to look nice hoping it would change my mood. I slipped into some tight jeans and a bright purple shirt that showed off my abundance of cleavage. Adding a sexy pair of strappy, black-studded sandals, I looked in the mirror. I looked damn good. Screw you, Graham Morgan who didn’t think I was worth a second glance.

Living in Brooklyn, I usually met my dates wherever we were going. Public transportation wasn’t exactly conducive to picking people up, which worked for me since I wasn’t particularly fond of giving virtual strangers my address. But Aspen planned to take me somewhere out on Long Island, so he had picked me up.

“I hope you don’t mind. I just need to make a quick stop.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Unlike when we had met at the party, the car ride was filled with awkward conversation. I had to ask questions to keep the conversation going.

“So where are we headed? You mentioned a club.”

“It’s a comedy club. I don’t go on until nine.”

“You’re performing?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Figured two birds, one stone.”

Something about his response bothered me. It implied our date was a task. But I tried to make the best of it. It had been a long time since I went to a comedy club, and maybe he was trying to show off to me. When my phone buzzed in my bag, I peeked to see who it was. I hated to admit it, but part of me wanted it to be Graham.

Aspen pulled into the lot and parked. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

He was leaving me in the car? “Where are we?” I looked around in the darkness. There was a 7-Eleven to the left and White’s Funeral Home to the right.

“I have to stop in at White’s. My aunt died.”

“Your aunt died?”

“Yeah. I’ll just be ten minutes.” He started to get out. “Unless you want to come in with me?”

“Umm…I’ll just wait here.”

What the hell?

I sat there dumbfounded in the parking lot. He was essentially taking me to his aunt’s funeral then to work. When my phone buzzed again, I figured I could use the distraction.

Graham: How’s your tongue?

Soraya: Better. The swelling has gone down.

Graham: I’ve been worried about it all day.

Soraya: Is that so?

I smiled. My conversation with the gorgeous perv might be the highlight of my date with Aspen.

Graham: What are you doing right now, Soraya?

I heard his sexy voice rasp the question in my ear as I read his text. The hair on my arms stood up. My body had it bad for this man, regardless of what my brain said.

Soraya: I’m on a date, actually.

My phone went quiet for a long time. I started to think that was that. But then it vibrated again.

Graham: Is it safe to assume it isn’t going well since you’re texting during it?

Soraya: That would be a safe assumption.

Graham: What’s his name?

Soraya: Why do you want to know?

Graham: So I have a name to put with the man I suddenly dislike.