Page 12 of Sour Brew Face

Mo 11.

“Hey, MoMo, can I talk to you?” I hit save on my computer and turn to eye a nervous Dave in my doorway. Sensing this is gonna take some time, I remove my glove and safety glasses, motioning him to my office adjacent to the lab.

“You seem capable.” I answer back with a teasing grin. He stares at me blankly, pushing his black hair off his forehead and his glasses up. Then he snorts like a pig and chuckles.

“That is such a mom joke.” He shakes his head and sits down at the chair in front of my desk. “MAY I speak to you?”

“That’s better. And yes, you may. I’m knowledgeable on many subjects.”

“Girls. I want to talk to you about girls.” He says quickly in one breath.

I raise an eyebrow at him and rest my chin in my hands. “I would suggest women for a man of your advanced age, Dave. Child brides are a thing of the past. At least here.”

“I should have talked to Mike.” He mutters and I rear back in shock.

“Mike? As in sausage jockey, straight as a rainbow, pirate of the poo pipe persuasion, Mike?”

“Pretty sure he just goes by Mike. Oh, I think his mom calls him Mikey.”

“You think Mike would give you better advice about women than an actual woman?”

“I believe you have the correct anatomical features, although, I have not seen them to verify. It’s just…you’re like us, an Ordinary Guy.”

“With a working vagina and tits and menses.”

He huffs, sagging in the chair and closing his eyes. “Can we not talk about the…the…”

“First rule of dating women, if you can’t name their body parts or their typical functions, you probably aren’t ready to touch any.”

“How do I know if a girl,” his eyes widen at my glare, “er, woman likes me? I don’t want to be aggressive.”

I smile to myself, however, maintain an impassive expression for Dave’s sake. “Are you referring to Amelia?” His eyes dart away, and a blush rises up nice and rosy on his full cheeks.

“Yes.” He croaks out and it’s so damn adorkable. My little boys are growing up so fast.

“The same Amelia who talked to you for hours at the bar? Who kissed your cheek? Gave you her number?”

“Yes.”

“What exactly is your hesitation? Is it inexperience?” We don’t really discuss relationships around the office, except for my failing ones. The guys don’t date often, if at all. They don’t compare bitches at the water cooler.

“I mean, that certainly plays a role in my reticence. But…it’s just…she was flirting with Jack and then switched to me. How do I know her interest is genuine?”

I don’t answer right away. Not because I don’t know how to respond, but I want Dave to know I take him seriously. I reach across the table and take one of his sweaty hands in mine. Ew.

“Dave, honey. Are you rich?” He shakes his head no. “Did you flash cash or tell her you were?” He shakes his head again. “Did she ask about your bank account, or inquire as to the diversification of your financial portfolio?”

“No.” He answers, looking at me like I’m stupid. Oh, my young grasshopper, so much to learn about women. And he’s right, I’m probably not the right person to ask, but I’m certainly better than Mike, who is gay by the way, in case that wasn’t clear earlier.

“Admittedly, I’ve only spoken to her that one time in person, and few text message conversations since, but I find that she’s a genuine person. There’s no artifice to her. Yes, she might have thought Jack was attractive, he is, until he opens that fucking pie hole of his. But she came over to me to apologize for his actions. And I don’t think she could have made it any clearer that she was interested in you unless she stripped naked, mounted your lap and pissed on you.”

His eyes widen further. “Oh God, do you think she’s into that? I don’t think I am—”

I wave my hands to stop his meltdown. “Stop. I meant she was marking her territory. She likes you, Dave, as she should. You are a great guy. You have a lot to offer the right woman.”

“But I’m not—” He cuts himself off, gesturing to his belly.

“Have you ever heard the term ‘bear’?” He shakes his head.

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