July 3, 2004
Our son Thomas is wrapping up his year in Spain and will be coming home in two weeks. After much prodding from his mother he finally told us about his girlfriend. Here’s this morning’s e-mail from Valencia:
“Her name is Cristina and I met her at the beach several months ago. Rich my friend from Rutgers and I were hanging out and I kept getting looks from this girl. She was about to leave and I finally got my nerves up to go talk to her. We talked for about 20 minutes. When it came time to go my terrible instincts were telling me that she wasn’t all that interested so I tried to set it up so I wouldn´t have to ask for her number. I told her I go to Nikana on wednesday nights and she said she´d never heard of it. So I said goodbye and that was that. Ten minutes later while I was talking to Rich about how you win some and lose some I hear someone calling my name. I turn around and Cristinas jogging back from the boardwalk. I go to meet her and she says, "I normally don’t do this, but can I get your number." That´s how bad my instincts are being a guy. She later told me how annoyed she was when we first met that I didn´t ask for her number. Her 18th birthday was on wednesday but she looks like she´s 22. I guess you can tell from the picture that she´s fairly tall. Model material I tell her but you be the judge. She studies biology and does very well in school. Shes a big fan of animals seeing as how she has a fish tank, a hamster, caterpillars and a cat. But, more importantly she likes The Strokes and in general has damn good taste in rock. She lives in Alboraya, which if you´ll recall is the town right outside of Valencia that is just inland from Posaplaya where we stayed. Her house is really sweet. It´s three stories with all kinds of patios and stuff. That´s really it. We hang out at the beach a lot and play paddle ball, see the occasional movie or go out on the town. Her English is really good. She lived in London for several months. She speaks pretty good German from doing an exchange there and is going to live in Edinburgh, Scotland for the summer. Valenciano is her first language so she speaks it fluently as well as Spanish.”
And here’s my e-mail back to him:
Thanks for the long awaited information on your girlfriend. As for your terrible instincts with reading women, you are not alone. I can't begin to tell you how many signals I have missed throughout my checkered career. In fact, I missed it with your mom! I had left a party in honor of Bill Compton and someone else had to tell me "Hey I think Kathy Radina was digging on you." I was incredulous: "Are you kidding?! Turn this car around." You know the rest. We got married and went to the state prison for a sperm donor sample and then you were born.
As you know, I've long been thinking about writing a book called "A Caring Father Talks to His Son About Pussy." Of course, your mother hates this title, but, politically incorrect words or not, I have some truths to tell that can help mankind, and I do mean mankind.
Here's a chapter I'm considering for the book: "How to Pretend to Be Interested In Everything She Says." In this chapter I would quote Marlon Brando, who just died by the way, from the movie A Streetcar Named Desire: "I never met a dame yet who didn't know if she was good-looking or not without being told." Despite the corny "dame" reference, that is a timeless bit of wisdom.
In fact, this is the reverse of what you were experiencing on the beach. We're all so insecure, male and female, but it's even more so with beautiful women. The prettier they are the more insecure they seem to be.
The trick is to be enthusiastic about them. So many males constantly try to impress these godesses with me, me, me. I did this. I did that. I think this, I believe that. My favorite movies, my favorite sports. Look at my new socks. Then I did this, then my friends and I did that. Blah, Blah, Blah. Why? Because, deep down, no matter how insecure they are, we are even more insecure.
Roman Polanski is a little Polish twit who has bedded some of the most beautiful women in the world. How did he do it? Well, he once told the story of riding in the back of a limo driviing down a European street and he saw this beautiful, long-legged hottie walking along, so he rolled down the window and just started yelling at her, telling her how beautiful she was. He eventually talked her into the limo (I think she was with her sister or friends, and the limo is of course a huge advantage over most guys), but he later confessed, "I just worshipped her and told her constantly how great she was." That is the difference and the secret. He didn't go on and on about himself, which is the tempting thing to do around beautiful women.
Of course he got Sharon Tate pregnant and she was later killed by Charlie Manson goons, and Roman skipped out of the U.S. after being indicted for having sex with a minor, but those are other stories and lessons to be learned.
Worship that girl. Be enthusiastic about her and the things she loves. When in doubt, talk about her. Good luck son.
Coming next: The Four Most Feared Words In The English Language (we-need-to-talk).
”He who reigns within himself and rules his passions, desires, and fears is more than a king.”
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