Charlotte: I can’t wait for your report tomorrow either, you devil.

Truly: On my way to our coffee date! But question for you – have you ever gone through a million wardrobe options because you’re planning to spend time with someone you’re not even dating? I did that just now. I’m seeing Jason tonight, and . . . well, you know. I need to stay strong.

Presley: I’m here and I’m going to order you a coffee, black. You always order something ridiculous like a watermelon latte with a side of nutmeg when you’re unsure of something, when in fact you need a coffee, black. Also, that’s what you should have tonight before you see him.

Truly: Watermelon latte sounds disgusting.

Presley: And yet I’m sure somewhere in this city, some café sells it.

Truly: Let us vow to never go to that coffee shop.

Presley: I accept this suggestion wholeheartedly.

Truly: Also, black coffee sounds perfect. That’ll keep me strong.

Presley: Good luck staying strong with the guy you want to bang.

Truly: I do not want to bang him.

Presley: Oh, sorry. I meant to say the guy you sooooo want to bang.

Truly: Between you and Charlotte, I’ve decided friends are the devil. See you in two minutes.

Presley: I’ll have my best devilish smile for you.

14

Ryder meets my eye from across the booth in the studio. “And we’re back for the final segment of The Consummate Wingman. Today, we have a special guest in the studio. You know him as the Modern Gentleman in New York, and he’s dedicated to the cause of helping our listeners be the best they can be. Jason, talk to us. I need your number one new tip.”

It’s Tuesday morning, and I’m in the booth at the studio where Lockhart records his wildly popular radio show.

The man is a rock star in the advice business, and with good reason. He tells it like it is, and he has something to say. That’s what I’ve learned matters most. You can have a good voice, be comfortable in front of crowds, and possess a charming grin that warms people to you. But if you want to be an “expert,” you must have a point of view.

I move closer to the mic. “I’ve been thinking about how we can help our fellow men out there, and I have just the tidbit to share with your listeners. Ryder, tell me something. Do you think there’s ever a need to manspread?”

He chuckles. “No. Never.”

“Exactly. I propose an end to manspreading. In the ongoing quest to make manners the next cool trend, can we please keep our knees inside our own personal space?”

Ryder hoots. “I’m down with that.”

“Am I right? But if you don’t believe me, gentlemen of the city, put yourself in the place of someone who must share space with you. Let’s say you’re sitting on the train, heading into work, and you spread your legs. Do you really need a foot of space or more between your knees? Is that essential to your comfort and well-being? Your mating posture?”

Ryder smiles broadly. He’s clearly amused with today’s advice. “Nor is it necessary for your junk.”

“Exactly. And when you do manspread, do you know what the other person across from you is thinking? They’re thinking, ‘I can’t believe that’s somebody’s son, husband, brother, or what have you.’ Because spread legs are tacky and virtually always uncalled for.”

Ryder raises a fist. “Down with manspreading. Let’s bring an end to it.”

“Precisely. One of the reasons I say don’t do this in public is if you keep doing it in public, you’re going to do it in business. You’re going to do it when you sit down for a job interview. You’re going to do it when you sit across from somebody you want to hire you. And I tell you this: it’s highly unlikely anyone is interested in hiring a manspreader.”

“I think it’s safe to say that employers of the world are thanking you right now.”

“And I’m thanking your listeners who I know are going to change their habits today.”

“Well, you heard it here,” Ryder says, shifting to a wrap-it-up tone, “from the Modern Gentlemen in New York. Today’s tip? Just cut that nasty habit, dudes, and we’ll be heading toward a classier society.”

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.