When the segment finishes, Ryder walks out of the studio with me. “The listeners dig you. It doesn’t hurt that they think you’re speaking from a position of authority simply because of that accent.”
“It’s true. The accent proves I’m always correct,” I joke.
“Let’s get you back in the studio in another week. Next Monday good for you?”
A smile threatens to take over my face, but I do my best to appear grateful and professional and not out of my mind with glee. Don’t want to scare him away. “Sounds great to me.”
“And listen, I’m really impressed that you’ve built a reputation as an expert on your own over the years. It’s amazing to meet somebody your age who’s gone through Toastmasters and done all sorts of public speaking. We may have an opening soon. I’m going to advocate for you.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
When I leave the building, I want to pump a fist, to jump up and down. It’s an odd job I’ve cobbled together, but it’s one I love. Talking. Sharing. Giving advice. And really, trying to save the world one man or woman at a time by keeping them from being disgusting pigs.
Later that night, I do something else I enjoy.
I meet up with Truly.
15
From the pages of Truly’s Drink Recipe Book
Gentleman Friend:
Coffee
Just Coffee
Some guys are just . . . hard to categorize. They don’t want to stay in that neat drawer you’ve selected for them.
There’s the friend drawer, the date drawer, the colleague drawer, the lover drawer, and the boyfriend-material drawer.
But some men don’t fit in your bureau.
Take that guy who’s a friend, but not the average friend. You rely on him, you turn to him, and you laugh with him.
He has interesting things to say. He has a point of view. And you like that. Damn it, you like that more than you should. You find him . . . intriguing. You think you know him, but you’re also keenly aware that you haven’t unearthed everything that makes him tick. And you want to.
Because there’s more going on.
You’re not talking about looks, but he has all that. You’re talking about who he is. His brains, his heart, his smarts.
His charisma.
Damn, his charisma.
He has that by the gallon.
But you made a deal. You have a plan. There is a road map. He’s your friend, he’s simply your gentleman friend.
And sometimes when you’re heading out to see your gentleman friend, you need a shot of courage.
No liquor this time, ladies.
You need to be in complete control.
If you want to make it through a night with your gentleman friend, you need something strong. We’re talking the stiffest, toughest drink possible to gird yourself.
Garlic juice.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Kidding! Garlic is like bacon. It’s a no-go.
But coffee? A strong pot of coffee? Yes. Come to mama. None of that French roast crap for the Gentleman Friend drink. The Gentleman Friend is single origin Ethiopian, natural wash, handcrafted, organic with a bright, juicy taste. Never more than 202 degrees. Keeps the brain on high alert. Keeps your attention on anything other than the way your gentleman friend looks when he walks down the street in those dark jeans and that pullover shirt that hugs his pecs, wearing that five-o’clock shadow you want to run your hands over. Coffee will hold your focus when he gets that twinkle in his amber eyes—damn that twinkle. Damn it to hell and back for the way it makes your stomach flip.
