Page 1 of Man of the Month Club: May
1
Poppy
Iglance away from the road for a second to wink at my friend, Daphne. “You have nothing to worry about. Everyone likes you. I’m the one who speaks my mind without a filter and ends up leaving a trail of enemies in my wake.”
“You do not,” Daphne assures me in her soft voice. “Anyone who takes the time to get to know the real you, loves you.”
I appreciate her sweet sentiment, even if it’s not exactly true.
When I weave quickly into the left lane of the I-465 beltway that loops Indianapolis, Daphne sucks in an audible breath before saying, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this traffic.”
As we pass a long line of semis, I say, “You just gotta take the bull by the horns and jump in, my friend. If you want something, take it. That philosophy works for both driving and life in general.”
Although it’s sage advice, I know my shy friend will never be assertive. It’s not in her nature, but she has Ben and me to stick up for her, if anyone ever tries to bother her.
Daphne is staring down at her lap as she says, “I just don’t want the other women to think I shouldn’t be at the meeting, since I already found my love match.”
“What are you talking about? You are a smashing success story that makes all of the rest of us want to find what you have. Besides, Phoebe removes past matches from the pool of surveys, so it’s not like you’ll affect anyone’s likelihood of being selected.”
“I guess so,” Daphne agrees as I angle my small car onto the off-ramp and head towards Evie’s Bar & Grill.
The parking lot for the bar is packed. “I guess the competition is going to be fierce tonight.”
“Word about the success of the application must be spreading like wildfire,” Daphne guesses.
When I see the reverse lights on the small SUV just ahead of us, I put my compact car into reverse. Once I back up enough to give me room to slide into the spot, I shift the car back into drive.
Daphne’s voice is shaky when she says, “I think that car sitting over there with its turn signal on has been waiting for this spot.”
“Well, with any luck, we’re going to swoop in and get it before Mr. Mercedes even knows what happened,” I assure her.
It’s obvious Daphne is not on board with this plan when she says, “Can’t we just park someplace else? I think there’s a parking garage a couple of blocks away. I’ll be happy to pay for it.”
“Nonsense. There’s a perfectly good spot right here beside the bar,” I tell her.
“But that man isn’t going to be happy if we take the place he’s been waiting for,” Daphne squeaks.
Ignoring her, I gun my Mini Cooper forward as soon as the SUV reverses and stops to change gears. There’s just enough room in front of the SUV for me to squeeze my car into the newly available spot while the schmuck in the Mercedes, waiting with his turning signal on behind the SUV, sits there unable to move.
A horn blasts, so I say under my breath, “Sore loser.”
“I don’t like this,” Daphne says nervously.
“We won fair and square,” I tell her as I reach into the back seat to grab my purse before opening my door to emerge.
The Mercedes is sitting directly behind my car. The driver rolls down the passenger’s side window to yell, “Didn’t you see me waiting for that spot with my turn signal on?”
“Oh, I saw… But you snooze, you lose,” I yell back, completely unimpressed by his fancy car or his dashing good looks.
“Unbelievable,” he mutters and shakes his head.
As he revs his engine and drives away, I turn to give Daphne a wide, reassuring smile. “Ready?”
“I guess so,” she answers, seeming completely rattled by the interaction––even though she wasn’t directly involved.
Once inside the crowded bar, I find us some chairs and scoot them up to the lively group’s table, forcing them to make room for us.
A couple of the ladies aren’t shy about glaring at me––likely over last month’s harmless April Fools’ prank. Determined not to be intimidated by them, I say, “You have to put up with me to get Daphne, and she’s a delight.”
