Page 36 of How to Win the Girl

Me:That’s EXACTLY what I told him! And he STILL told me to get naked. See, this is why men suck.

Drew:Uh, in my defense, I never would have told you to take your clothes off.

Me:**eye roll** Yeah right.

Drew:For real.

Me:You’re telling me you’ve never asked a girl to show you her tits on a dating app.

Drew:Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. Why the hell would I want in a picture what I could have in person.

I stare at that sentence, not sure how to respond.Why the hell would I want in a picture what I could have in person.

Why indeed.

I’m still confused about why a guy like Drew Colter is a on a dating app to begin with. I figure all he has to do to get laid is, well—walk outside of his house and girls fall all over him.

But.

He did say he was looking for an actual relationship and not a hookup.

A new kind of message pops up.

YOU HAVE A VOICE MESSAGE FROM: DREW COLTER

The message is fifty-four seconds long.

Huh.

This is new.

I did not know you can send voice messages through the dating app! How did I not know this? Sure didn’t take my new buddy Drew long to figure out the nuisances of the app.

I hit play and brace myself for whatever he’s about to say.

“That came out way wrong.” A low, confident chuckle reverberates through the phone. “What I meant was, I’m not really interested in the kind of girl who willingly sends a dude pictures of her bare tits from little to no prompting, except a single request on this damn app.” He clears his throat. “That’s what I meant. Lost in translation and all that….”

The message ends.

I stare.

Shiver.

Hit play and listen again. “…Not really interested in the kind of girl who willingly sends a dude pictures of her bare tits from little to no prompting…”

Me:Why do I find it hard to believe you’re not interested in the kind of girl who wants to show you her boobs?

Three dots appear as he types.

Three dots disappear.

Then.

A when I give up that he’s going to hit send, another voice message appears.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love seeing a set of naked boobs. I’m only human, plus I’m a guy.” His laughter sends another shiver down my spine. “What I’m saying—and I think there’s a difference—is that if a girl is willing to show me her boobs after we’ve been talking for less than five minutes, and I’ve never met her in person…” He pauses. “You can guarantee she’s shown her boobs to ten other people. Which is fine, whatever. Do what you want. But I’d rather not walk around campus dating a girl when half the male student population has seen her half naked.”

My fingers tap on the cold top of the table; a table my parents donated that they hadn’t wanted anymore after I moved out when my mother redecorated once I came to college.

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