Page 3 of Rhymes with Metaphor
Martin found a place to park on the street.He pulled a box wrapped in shiny, crinkly paper from the back seat and checked himself in the rearview mirror, smoothing his hair back.
“How do I look?”
“What do you want me to say?”said Reg.
“Be honest.”
“You want to know if I’d shag you?”
“Do you think Juliet might?”
“Depends on her taste.Is she the sort of girl who likes a big nose?”
“No, look,” said Martin, “you’re supposed to say, ‘You look incredible.’”
“I wouldn’t go that far.You look passable.”
“I thought mentioning to Juliet that Lexi fancies me may lend me some cachet.”
“Leaving aside that Lexi’s nine and your cousin, why would that lend you any cachet?”
“Apparently, women are more attracted to a man if another woman already fancies him.I read it in a women’s magazine.”
“It must be true, then.What if other men find the man attractive?I could flirt with you at the party if it would help.”
Martin sighed.“Please don’t embarrass me tonight.”
“I’ll try,” said Reg.“How doIlook?”
Martin had rousted him out of his loft so hastily that he hadn’t had time to dress properly.He wore a white button-down shirt (lightly crumpled), a cream linen suit jacket (deeply crumpled), striped Edwardian trousers (egregiously crumpled), and an emerald silk scarf, fastened with a gold and amethyst tie pin.
“Socks?”said Martin.
“Socks are a put-on,” said Reg.
“Yes.One puts them on.”
“I couldn’t find a matching pair.How do I look otherwise?”
“Foppish and unkempt.”
“Perfect.”Reg fumbled in his pockets.“Phone.”
“You won’t need to call an Uber.I’ll drive you home after the party.”
“Not fancying your chances of staying the night?”
“Juliet’s not that sort of woman,” said Martin.“You’ll see.For god’s sake, put out that cigarette.”
––––––––
“That’s hers,” saidMartin as they approached a yellow brick house with a blue roof and red trim.
“Mortgage or lease?”
Martin sighed impatiently.“She’s a student.Don’t say it.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
