Sandy crossed her leg and starting rolling her ankle, "Tip, what do you see when you look at me?"
"You want me to be honest?"
"Of course—I can't help you if you're not."
"Well, today I noticed your hips, but I always love your soft doe face."
Sandy looked puzzled, "Soft doe face? What is that?"
"He means you have a feminine, pretty face – there's no hardness in it."
Tip added, "The women I see usually have rougher facial features."
"Where are you meeting these girls, Tip?"
"Strip clubs mostly."
"That's nasty Tip! Ewe!"
"Good-looking woman are intimidating – at the clubs the girls are really friendly, easy going."
"They're friendly because it's their job – they're easy because you're paying them—would you want to marry a girl from one of your clubs?"
"No, but I feel comfortable. I know it's a job."
"Gross, Tip, that's so sad."
"A lot of agents have trouble meeting women."
"You need some serious help!" Sandy sounded like a concerned sister.
I coaxed, "He needs a good woman, – do you think you could introduce him to one of your girlfriends?"
"I'd really appreciate any advice you could give me, Sandy." Tip was sincere.
"Tip's not ready for one of my friends – seriously the girls I know are needy emotionally – he'd be lost."
Trying to help persuade her, "So, you're basically resigning him to a life of strip clubs and hookers?"
Sandy looked at me wide-eyed, raising her eyebrows, "Crude, Jack, you're enjoying this aren't you." She turned to Tip, "You're a good man, – you deserve to be happy. Tell me Tip, what do you think women want?"
"I don't really know – I guess – to be made happy?"
"So how would you do it then – make a girl happy that is?"
"Agree with her, make her feel important, give her things I guess."
"That's a start, but a woman needs so much more. She wants someone who can share in her emotions without being swallowed up by them. A man who will take his time with her and make time for her—She doesn't want to be rushed, but still likes spontaneity and excitement. She wants to feel like your equal and be respected for what she brings to the relationship. And, I'm only scratching the surface here."
"Men… do all this?"
"Some do—Jack does this stuff—he's kind… caring—he listens. Jack enjoys what women are all about—He looks with great passion. Tip, —she wants to know you're desirable to other women and she didn't get stuck with you."
"What about…?" Tip stopped himself, embarrassed.
"The bedroom... She'll forgive you. Don't worry, she'll follow your lead. Don't make her feel bad by talking about it later. That's the one place you can sort of be yourself... I can't believe I'm saying this—the poor thing… take it slow."
"Are there classes?"
"A good woman will teach you."
"Did Jack know all this?"
"Are you kidding? All he had was a smile when I met him – and a wandering eye. It's taken me years of subtle clues and hints to train him."
"Some not so subtle," I said, poking fun.
"She wants a friend – but not a guy that makes her feel responsible to make the first move or like she's a locker room pal."
Tip looked puzzled, "I'm lost."
"Jack, for fun – tell Tip what you're really thinking… right now."
"You're serious –now? No holds barred – what I'm really thinking?"
"Yes, something you'd normally never share with me."
Tip chuckled, "This oughta be good."
"Before you do… let me guess." Sandy squinted and looked up to the left, then to the right – "Something about my bikini?"
"Close—what was left of those cutoffs you were wearing that day by the lake."
"I was really close then. Tip, what did you think Jack was thinking?"
"I would have said World peace – you know to make you happy."
"Coward- okay tell the truth, what are you thinking right now?"
"The truth… really? – what it would be like – you know… if you were my girlfriend." Sandy rolled her eyes, pursing her lips.
"Not going to happen - but I'll help. We have to start really slow."
"Jack gets to say what's on his mind and you're okay with it?"
"There's a lot of trust built up you and I don't share. Stop whining – that's a deal killer for sure."
"You asked, though. I thought you wanted honesty?"
"Sometimes… oh, forget it…"
Tip cut her off, "Am I a lost cause then?"
"No, I didn't say… don't feel like that – we've got something to work with. You're good looking – dangerous – you might be a girl's worst mistake, at least for the first few, but you'll learn as you go."
"So will you set me up with one of your friends? One who looks most like you—preferably?"
"Sweet, Tip…, but wrong. Not when you don't understand the first thing about a woman. They'd thank me at first, but you wouldn't last two weeks with one of my friends – try to imagine flying too close to a supernova. They'd burn you up and drag you into an emotional black hole. You'd never escape!"
"I can keep a woman safe, at least."
"Of course you can. A woman wants to feel safe, understood, but she also wants a man who isn't afraid of her -someone who can be honest. Tell her the truth once in a while. Then grab her and make love without asking. A woman wants to live the full range—she wants you to be able to feel her emotions with her – from misery to elation. Can you do that?"
"I can try."
"That-a-boy, let's go out sometime and find you, someone suitable. A starter girlfriend."
"That will be great, are you free tonight?"
"Tonight? I guess so – you don't need for anything, do you, Jack?"
"No, I'm good – take him out – it's on me." I was happy to make the offer. Sandy would have a project and I wouldn't feel guilty about leaving her behind.
"We'll find you a girl with a doe face. You'll have to show me – but once I know – I'm sure we can find you one. If that's what you want."
"Really? This will be great. Sandy, I'll owe you!"
"You'll owe me big time!"
Martha burst into the room, "Daddy, Daphne told me Sandy was still in here." Martha turned to Sandy, "Can we go?"
"Yes, go – you girls have fun."
"Jack, are you sure? I thought you wanted me to stay and listen to Harry Winston."
"No—Tip and I have this" – turning to Martha, "Honey, call me if you find something."
Martha beamed, "I will, Daddy – let's go," she said pulling on Sandy's arm. The girls were halfway out the door when I asked, "Honey?" Martha turned.
"Oh, sorry, Honey, I meant Sandy, Sweetheart."
"I forgot to ask you –