Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“You know it girl!” sings Wanda. “I swear, I love little bugaboos but I’m not ready to have one. Danny is all I need,” she says cheerfully. “I’ll just borrow him when I’m feeling maternal.”
I laugh good-naturedly.
“When you have your own, you’ll be introduced to a new world,” I promise. “Incredibly high highs, but also incredibly low lows when the baby won’t stop crying no matter what you do.”
“Oh that,” says Wanda with a giggle. “That’s why Danny’s so great. I’ll just hand him back to you whenever he gets like that.”
I roll my eyes while giving her a silly grin.
“No but seriously, speaking about you. Enough about me, we always go on and on about me. How did your date last night go?”
After all, Wanda and I are still twenty-five year old women living in NYC. Although I’m now a mother, Wanda still has copious amounts of free time to go out and meet men. I actually encourage her to date as much as possible, and to sleep with all the hot guys she meets. When you get to motherhood, many of those opportunities shrivel right up because, believe it or not, not everyone wants to get entangled with a woman who has real responsibilities.
My friend rolls her eyes.
“That guy I went out with last night didn’t even show. What a douchebag. Can you believe it? I was so embarrassed when I realized what was happening because I had all those coupons for free guac at McWindy’s, but then I realized, if he wasn’t there, I’d be able to eat twice as much for the same price. So I did it,” she exclaims proudly. “I consumed two entire bowls of guacamole and chips on my own. For only five bucks too!”
I sigh a bit, but keep a cheerful look on my face.
“I’m happy for you Wan, but do you know why your date didn’t show?” I ask. “Did he say anything? Did he maybe send an apology text afterwards?”
“Oh him?” says Wanda casually. “Who knows? Well, he did say our discussion about women’s rights on-line got out of hand and that we wouldn’t be a fit.”
I gawk at her.
“He said this before or after you were supposed to meet?”
“After of course,” she says carelessly, like it doesn’t mean much. “Whatever, there are so many guys on-line, I’ll meet someone else soon. In fact, I’m supposed to go out with this other guy next week. I’m sure it’ll be better. If he doesn’t show too, then c’est la vie! It’s just more guac for me!” she cheers.
Internally, I cringe a bit. Wanda is one of those women who always maintains a tough-chick façade, but I can see that she’s hurting from the no-show and the level of rejection in her life. She’s a strong, brassy, independent female, but sometimes, my friend is just too out there. Not just with the crazy hair and mismatched clothes, but also in the way she talks and the opinions always at the tip of her tongue.
Take for example, her dating profile. I looked it over for her, ostensibly just to check for typos and such, but the minute I read it, I could tell no one would reply. No one sane at least. Wanda, for one, writes in long paragraphs, and I mean long. This girl babbles for ages and ages about all sorts of things, and she doesn’t realize that when you read on a phone, it appears as a wall of text. Readers’ eyes will go blurry, not to mention the fact that supposedly everyone has ADD these days. I don’t know how anyone would even get through one her answers.
Fortunately, my friend was amenable to putting in some paragraphs, but it wasn’t just the formatting that was the problem. It was also the content itself. Wanda went off on all sorts of things. Politics. Religion. The Middle East. Every prickly topic you can think of, she hit hard with a hammer directly on the head. It’s like she lost every filter that makes for acceptable company, and instead wanted to spew her guts onto her dating profile.
But when I gently suggested some changes to the actual text, Wanda shook her head firmly.
“No, I want these guys to know who I really am,” she said. “That’s the point of these dating profiles, right? To showcase the real you without fear and judgment?”
I nodded, taking a deep breath.
“Well yes, but I think it’s a little more complicated than that. I mean, dating profiles appear really simple, but they can actually be very nuanced. Do you think some of these guys are really interested in three paragraphs on climate change? About oil spills? About the strife in Gaza on the next page?”
My friend nodded emphatically.
“Yeah, definitely. I mean, I would want to hear about this stuff. I don’t want to hide behind a screen because I want to be real in presenting myself. There are so many Instagrammers and digital influencers out there, and none of them are real. They’re always trying to sell you shit, and I’m not like that,” she said with a superior tilt of her nose. “I’m the real deal, Wanda Lela Jones, for your consumption pleasure.”