A State of Jane (10 page)

I let out a deep exhale and stretched my arms over my head. Looking over at Andrew, who was carefully scrutinizing an Excel chart he had just printed out, I said, “Guys are infuriating!”

Andrew put down the chart and winked at me. “But you love us, don't you?”

I didn't answer.

“Right?” Andrew said.

I sure didn't love men at that moment. “Need you. I need guys, I suppose. But you can be so annoying, stupid and downright heartless sometimes. Ugh!”

Andrew started laughing. “You know what your problem is, Jane?”

I didn't have a problem. Cory had a problem! Exasperated, I said, “What?”

“You take it all so seriously and so you get all emotional. It just leads to pain. You should learn to date like a guy.”

Rolling my eyes at Andrew, I said, “And how do ‘guys’ date?”

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em, babe.”

“That's dumb!”

“Why's that? It works for me fine. You don't hear me whining about how girls are infuriating, do you?”

“Whatever.”

Sounding very pleased with himself, Andrew said, “Yup.”

“If you really love someone, Andrew, you won't want to leave her.”

Andrew looked at me thoughtfully before saying, “OK, scratch that. Slight amendment to the plan, ‘Nail ‘em and leave ‘em.’ Is that better?”

As I wondered where the hell Cory was and when he planned on calling me back, I shouted, “You're a pig!” to Andrew who responded by tossing a box of condoms he apparently kept at the office onto my lap. “Nail ‘em and leave ‘em, Jane. Trust me.”

C
HAPTER
18

When I still hadn't heard from Cory that night, I called Marissa and asked if she wanted to get a drink. I had this sick feeling that Cory was never going to call and needed a distraction from staring at my phone. A distraction in a place loud enough where I wouldn't mistake every sound for my phone ringing. Lainie heard me talking to Marissa and invited herself along. I didn't mind since she always managed to spice up the conversation.

We found three red plastic covered bar stools and leaned over the faded wooden bar to get the bartender's attention. I needed something stronger than wine, so I took Lainie's suggestion and ordered a vodka tonic with very little tonic. The strength shocked me and I almost regurgitated the first sip, but it went down easy after that and I was feeling much better by the time the glass was half empty. I raised my drink slightly off the table, took a sip and said, “Cheers! To friendship. Better than men!”

“Cheers!” said Marissa, taking a sip.

“Not sure I can toast to that, but OK,” Lainie said. “And by the way, you're supposed to drink after you toast, not before!”

Giggling, I said, “Oops!” and took another sip. Gesturing towards the bartender, I said, “‘Nother round, please!”

A couple of hours later, we were on our third or fourth round and I was feeling good. “Cory who?” I called out before downing the
rest of my drink, slamming the glass on the table and gesturing for the bartender.

Grabbing the twenty dollar bill from my hand which was raised in the air to catch the bartender's attention, Marissa said, “Maybe you've had enough.”

Protesting, I jerked the bill out of her grasp and said, “Don't think I've had nearly enough!”

Laughing, Lainie said, “Let her be! She's having fun!”

“Exactly!” Looking over at Lainie, I realized how much I really appreciated her and felt a wave of guilt for taking her for granted. “I love you Lainie! You're the best roommate ever!” I reached over to hug her and nearly fell off the barstool. Deciding it would be smarter to hug her standing up, I climbed off the bar stool and chanted, “So drunk! Sooooo drunkey!” Attempting a group hug, I put one arm around Lainie and one arm around Marissa. “My best friends!” After I kissed them each on the cheek, I turned around to tell everyone how lucky I was and saw that horrible bartender from the wine bar. Cassandra. What was she doing here? Hated her.

Disgusted, I turned back to the girls. “Ugh. I hate that girl!”

Not bothering with subtlety, Lainie whipped her head around and asked, “Which one?”

Refusing to turn around, I muttered, “Long blonde hair, blue skinny jeans. Behind you.”

I observed Lainie give Cassandra the once over but still refused to turn around. I took another sip of my drink and waited for her reaction.

Shrugging her shoulders, Lainie said, “She's OK, I guess. Her boyfriend's got a great ass though. Gotta love a guy in cords.”

When I heard the word “cords,” curiosity got the best of me and I finally turned around. When I saw Cassandra's “boyfriend,” I sucked in my breath and placed my hand on the back of Marissa's barstool for support. I needed a toilet and glanced toward the bathroom at the end of the bar. There was a line. A blurry line but a line all the same and I wasn't going to make it. Grabbing Marissa by the arm, I muttered, “I'm gonna hurl. Gotta get out of here.” Then trying not to fall, I ran out of the bar and onto the sidewalk. I felt someone hold my hair away from my face and pat my back as I puked four vodka tonics while moaning, “Randall the Rat.”

I didn't remember how I got home but as I lay in my bed and watched the ceiling spin, I heard Andrew's voice. Over and over again, he said, “Nail ‘em and leave ‘em Jane. Nail ‘em and leave ‘em.”

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I remembered was seeing Randall and Cassandra together at the bar, laughing like one of them said the funniest thing ever. I wondered what she had that I didn't. Why did he want her and not me? And Cory didn't want me either. How could he be so great and then flake like that? What did I do to deserve that? If he didn't want to meet my parents, he could've just said so. But to vanish without an explanation? And Jim. Oddly, he was the biggest disappointment of all. Although we had only gone out three times, I thought he was really into me. But no, he disappeared after one awkward sexual encounter. What was wrong with guys in this city?

*   *   *

“Aren't there any normal ones?” I asked Lainie that morning. She was getting ready for work. I had decided to take a mental health day. Although it could technically be called a sick day since I was still dry heaving every half hour.

Lainie shut off her blow dryer and turned away from her vanity to face me. I was lying stomach down on her bed, my head toward the edge. “I think normal has a different definition when it comes to guys in New York City,” she said. “There are so many girls here that for guys it's like eating at a Chinese buffet. They want to sample everything.”

I fought the urge to dry heave again and buried my head under one of Lainie's throw pillows. I mumbled, “Isn't anyone actually looking to meet one special person?”

Lainie pressed her lips together and gave me a soft smile. “Sadly, not really.”

I threw the pillow off the bed, sat up and pouted. “I really can't stand guys. Such dicks!”

Laughing, Lainie said, “Jane! Not used to the negativity from you. Or the profanity.”

“How am I supposed to remain positive? It's not like this is a one-off occurrence I can explain away. It's become a tradition. First it was Randall, then Jim and now Cory! And it all started with Nate!”

“Who's Nate?”

“eHarmony guy — said we had different values. We hadn't even emailed yet.”

Lainie joined me on the bed to pull on her boots. “Sorry Jane. Have you told your mom yet?”

“Not yet.” Noticing a box of condoms on Lainie's dresser, I thought of something. “My friend Andrew said I should date like a guy to avoid being hurt. Nail ‘em and leave ‘em.”

“Ha! Smart guy, that Andrew, but he clearly doesn't know you too well.”

I wished Lainie a good day at work and went back to my room, making a pit stop at the bathroom. Kneeling on the cold tiles with my head over the bowl, I had a feeling if I had taken Andrew's advice, I'd be going about a typical day at work instead of praying to the porcelain God.

When I woke up from my nap and had managed to go twelve straight hours without dry heaving, I reluctantly called my mom to tell her that Cory would not be coming to brunch. I was fortunate in that I knew she played Bunko on Wednesdays and wouldn't pick up the phone. I was certain she'd press me for details eventually but I wasn't ready to face her head on yet. I honestly didn't know what to say. It wasn't like Cory and I had an official break up or anything. He just faded into oblivion — like every other guy I dated before him since my reentrance into the dating world. I didn't think my mom would understand behavior like that was par for the course in New York City, especially since three guys flaked on me before I wised up.

It occurred to me that I hadn't studied for the LSAT since I'd started dating again. The next exam was not scheduled until March, which gave me almost three months to prep. Since I didn't have other plans for the evening and didn't want to mope about Cory, I decided studying would be a productive distraction. My dad had
paid for an online prep guide, so I dragged my sorry butt to the computer desk and vowed to buckle down for at least two hours.

Stubbornly gripping whatever was left of my trademark optimism, I first checked to see if Cory had sent me an email.

No email from Cory but about ten from various social groups regarding New Year's Eve parties. I couldn't believe it was almost New Year's Eve and I had no plans. When I had started dating in September, I was positive I'd have a boyfriend by the new year. I was obviously deluded but oddly not breaking a cold sweat over not having anyone to kiss at midnight. I'd do something with Marissa and maybe Lainie since we'd all, either willingly or unwillingly, be seated at the singles table and at least they'd still be my friends the next morning.

I had notifications from eHarmony about a bunch of new matches, including some who were interested in me. Yeah, interested today, gone tomorrow. No thanks.

I got in my pajamas and went to bed hoping thoughts of my new niece or nephew would lull me to sleep. I hoped Claire would have a girl. A nephew would be fun until he got his first erection and then he'd be like the rest of them. I wanted no part of the male species, not even my own blood. Except my dad. I wondered how my mom had managed to make an honest man out of him. She was my mom — that was how. Claire was more like her than I was which explained why Kevin hadn't flown the coop so far. If he flaked on her and my niece, I'd kill him. I'd put arsenic in his beer.

Wondering how I could get my hands on arsenic, I fell asleep.

C
HAPTER
19

I had started to see the appeal of
True Blood
. Lots of sex without love, vampires without souls, violent deaths. It was way more realistic than
Platinum Weddings
, so when Marissa asked if she could still watch it at our apartment even though Lainie had a date, I said yes and decided to watch it with her. Dressed in two-piece fish-printed pajamas from Old Navy, I stretched my body across the entire length of our cushy caramel leather couch. My legs were buried under one of the larger throw pillows and my arms were locked behind my head.

From our reclining chair, Marissa said, “My product manager left notice today.”

“Is that a good thing?” I asked.

“She was nice, but Katherine thinks it's the perfect opportunity to ask for a promotion. What do you think?”

Yawning, I said, “I think you should do what you want and not just what Katherine says.”

Marissa sighed. “Of course, I
want
to be promoted Jane! But do you think they'd give it to me? I only have a couple years of experience. And if they didn't want to promote me, I'm afraid they'd hold it against me for asking.”

“What do we have here?” I asked as Lainie walked in the room, dressed to impress in a one-piece denim zippered dress over tight black pleather pants and pointy-healed black leather boots.

Marissa whistled, “Woo hoo! Sexy, sexy!”

Lainie shrugged nonchalantly. “It is what it is.”

“You do look sexy,” I agreed. “Who's the guy du jour?” Unlike me (in my previous life — the one that included men), Lainie wasn't one to eagerly discuss her manly pursuits.

She walked over to the couch and patted my legs with her hands in a gesture to make me sit up and let her share the space. I was reluctant to give up the comfort of my position but begrudgingly complied.

“I met him at an underground after-hours lounge earlier this week. He's a record producer. Chocolate brown eyes, midnight black long eyelashes and sun-kissed looking skin. And a well-travelled tongue that took me places I'd only read about in ….”

I raised my hand in the air and interrupted, “OK! We catch your drift. Details not necessary.”

“Speak for yourself!” Marissa was now sitting up straight, her eyes opened wide in interest.

“He sounds just your type. Hot, sexy, and temporary,” I said. “Perfect.” The last word had formed as an expression of sarcasm, but as I heard it leave my mouth, it rang more sincere than I expected.

“I don't know. I might keep him around for a little while.”

I turned towards Lainie in surprise to see if she was joking, but she was leaning over, lacing up her boots, and her curly hair blocked her facial expression. When she sat back up and stood, there was no hint of jest on her face.

Hurrying toward our front door, she grabbed her keys from the hook and called out, “Later girls!” She turned to look at me one more time and said, “Don't wait up!”

As the door closed and I heard Lainie's footsteps as she walked down the stairs, I yelled, “Nail him and leave him!” Under my breath, I added, “Before he leaves you first.”

*   *   *

I spent the next few weeks avoiding eye contact with anyone who was likely to have a penis – in the island of Manhattan, you never really knew for sure. I walked the city streets briskly, eyes focused straight ahead and scowled at the construction workers who dared to whistle and refused to acknowledge the less obvious corporate types who gave me a quick once over as our paths crossed. I didn't want to be noticed and stopped trying to disguise my plumper lower half. I also packed away my v-neck, cleavage-enhancing sweaters and opted for looser tops like button downs. During nights out with the girls, I feigned exhaustion and excused myself early if we were approached by single guys. When Lainie caught on and questioned why I was so tired lately, I stopped pleading sleep deprivation in favor of needing to study for the LSAT. I'd cancelled my eHarmony subscription and suspended my membership in the Meetup singles group. The fees seemed a waste of my hard-earned dollar.