"WELL?!" Jenna reiterated, her curiosity piqued. Ryan wore a smile that could have been interpreted either way - either a coy 'not this time or...
"She said yes."
"You don't seem overly enthused." Jenna remarked.
"I had her buffaloed." Ryan answered. Buffaloed? What did that mean? Expecting Jenna wouldn't understand, Ryan explained, "I had her cornered."
"What?"
"She was in bed, probably drifting off to sleep. Her defenses were so down she might've agreed to buy insurance from me too if I asked."
"Well, your fault for phoning a chick after midnight. Still it doesn't prove a thing. I'm still convinced you fear women."
"I'm not afraid of you, but then again..."
"I don't count."
"you don't count." they said in tandem. Another one of Ryan's faults; one that Jenna and Ryan agreed on was that he was too kind. He never said no to anyone. A bit starved for friends, Ryan overcompensated, going that extra mile when an inch was sufficient. Jenna even once chastised Ryan about it, but Ryan merely shrugged and said that if his friends (and by his tone he meant Jenna in particular) didn't want favors they shouldn't ask. This put Jenna in a no-win position as she had at least thrice that week asked for a boon. Still, he didn't have to be such a jerk about it.
Ryan, too, brainstormed. Night after night, beer after beer, Ryan and Jenna shot the perverbial **** at one another and the topic would always lead back to Ryan and his difficulties. He secretly envied Jenna. Ryan had always seen himself as a square block in an oddly shaped world. He couldn't fit in any of the oddly-shaped holes - his metaphor for people.
Jenna, on the other hand was Play-doh. You could stuff her into a circle, or a star, or a block - a completely malleable social butterfly. Jenna explained it was because she was nice to people. Ryan believed it was because she had breasts, nice ones too, and thus attracted men. Women go where men are, so they went to Jenna.
These though processes and millions more fluttered in Ryan polygonal mind even as he tried to taste the bitterness of the beer. He then reflected on the thought itself and wondered, is Jenna right? Do I think too much?
"Getting back to the point, I don't have a problem with rejection. To be honest, I couldn't care less about Melissa, and more likely than not, she would've turned me down had I out-of-the-blued her when she wasn't half asleep."
"I hate psychoanalysing you."
"I hate it too. But the alternative..."
Jenna clammed up. Before Jenna had moved in, Ryan had lived alone. Not just alone, but in solitude. Ryan was a great friend, and to be perfectly honest, the funniest person Jenna had ever known. Despite this he never seemed to maneuver himself into anyone's primary social circle - try as he might. He was living alone because his last girlfriend had dropped him and moved out and a month later his father had passed away. For nearly two years Ryan had lived by himself, nary any visitors, and no one to talk to aside from two overfed cats. Ryan called them the lean years.
Then, Jenna and her boyfriend of 4 years had broken up leaving a n apartment divided between the two. The awkward silences eventually turned to overt venom spit-fights. They were one white-painted line down the middle of their apartment away from becoming a poorly conceived sitcom. Thankfully they had come to the mutual agreement to move out. It was a perfect coupling - an attention starved chauvinist and a disenchanted homeless woman.
In retrospect, it HAD become the premise for a badly conceived sitcom, Ryan thought.

(to be continued)

"No, I don't have a problem with rejection." Ryan defended mid-sip of his beer. "Women have a problem SEEING me."
"Seeing you? There you are." Jenna pointed a long finger at him. Jenna was as tall as Ryan, just as witty, but where Ryan's brilliance manifested only in gripes, Jenna had a spritely, teasing way of demonstrating it. She was the optimistic yin to his cynical yang.
"Ha. Ha." replied Ryan. Gulping down another pull (this one a little deeper than the last), Ryan clarified.
"I project myself well, and I don't have to tell you how smart I am. I truly feel that girls..."
"Women."
"Women, don't value what I have to offer."
Jenna pondered Ryan's position for a moment. She did that thing where she let her eyes drift to the left and downwards, as if visualizing a tangible answer descending like a balloon. She knew WHAT she wanted to say, but not how to phrase it. Ryan truly was intelligent in her view; few guys, her current boyfriend included, could carry a conversation with her.
Ryan also had a way with words. His vocabulary was impecable, and though his opinion of himself was indeed vaunted, he was far from snobbish. Oftentimes, Jenna thought he hadn't heard her talking to him only to be reassured that he was searching for the ideal word to reply with. He wasn't a pompous speaker, just an efficient one.
Now, challenged by his self-assessment of being unappealing to the opposite sex - and herself in no position to credibly say otherwise, what with her six-packed boyfriend. Such reassurance from her only be seen as condescending mercy-prattle.
That she decided was Ryan's ultimate flaw, and by extension, the answer to her question. He second guessed.
Ryan, for his part, awaited Jenna's answer with anticipation. Debate was a vice of Ryan's and he prided himself on what he felt was logic, or the elimination of unreasonable assumptions, (or what Ryan called, much to the Jenna's frustration, 'women's bane'.)
"You're scared of women, is all." challenged Jenna. Ryan nearly srpayed her with beer. The audacity of emasculating barb was so unexpected to Ryan that he fought for a second - wordesmith that he was - to recover. At that moment, Ryan opted for actions not words.
"What are you doing now?" Jenna asked. Ryan had extracted his cellphone from his jean pocket and was dialing. It was 12:30.
Who the hell was HE calling.
Jenna gazed at Ryan his eyes sliding from right to left in anticipation, stopping a time or two to stare venom-tipped daggers at Jenna for a second. His mouth cracked open and he began to speak.
"Hey Melissa, it's Ryan - say, I was wondering if you'd like to go for coffee sometime, naturally if you're not busy. Anyways gimme' a call when y-you get the chance. Ciao." Jenna mentally gaped at her roommate, astounded that he would - COULD -do that. Ryan shrugged.
"Voicemail."
"Why the hell did you do that?" before Ryan could answer his cellphone rang.
"Hello? Oh hey Melissa, what's up?" A slight pause. "Yeah I called. I was wondering are you seeing anyone right now?" Ryan eyed Jenna for a second. "No? Oh great. Hey you probably haven't heard the message but I wanted to ask you out for a coffee sometime." again a pause as Melissa presumably answered. "Terrif! Well I'll call you sometime, we'll set something up. Awesome. Ciao!" Ryan snapped his cellphone shut, and a Cheshire Cat-like.
"Well?"

(To be continued)

***Warning***

The following story contains coarse language and mature subject themes used in context with the characters involve. If these things offend you (though heaven knows why it should) just stop reading. I know now that I've baited you with promises of lurid conduct and vulgar dialogue, you can't help but scan the lines below, but keep in mind three VERY IMPORTANT DETAILS...

First, this is in it's entirety, a work of fiction. The characters are no more real than Indianna Jones, Bridget Jones or Davy Jones (the tentacle-faced pirate, not of course, the Monkee)

Secondly, the aforementioned lurid conduct and vulgar dialogue are used in CONTEXT. Ryan will swear, because he will swear. Jenna will have sexual misadventures in semi-graphic detail, because that's her. It is no more unrealistic for the characters to live out their fictional lives than it is for them to breathe.

Thirdly, this being a site for singles to mingle, it demands a certain (if not codified) level of maturity. If you are offended because you are underage (or if your parents caught you reading this) it is because you aren't allowed here. If you are offended because this flies in the face of you beliefs-slash-values, consider the fact that you are among at least an equal number of perverts, degenerates, undesirables and pariahs. A) Is this really where you WANT to be? and B) Can you blame them for being here?

Before I get overly verbose in the disclaimer, allow me to wish all the best of luck in finding love or friendship or whatever you're here for, and also hope you'll enjoy this story.

Paulruddlike.

See the rest of the story in the Creative Writing section.

"No, I don't have a problem with rejection." Ryan defended mid-sip of his beer. "Women have a problem SEEING me."
"Seeing you? There you are." Jenna pointed a long finger at him. Jenna was as tall as Ryan, just as witty, but where Ryan's brilliance manifested only in gripes, Jenna had a spritely, teasing way of demonstrating it. She was the optimistic yin to his cynical yang.
"Ha. Ha." replied Ryan. Gulping down another pull (this one a little deeper than the last), Ryan clarified.
"I project myself well, and I don't have to tell you how smart I am. I truly feel that girls..."
"Women."
"Women, don't value what I have to offer."
Jenna pondered Ryan's position for a moment. She did that thing where she let her eyes drift to the left and downwards, as if visualizing a tangible answer descending like a balloon. She knew WHAT she wanted to say, but not how to phrase it. Ryan truly was intelligent in her view; few guys, her current boyfriend included, could carry a conversation with her.
Ryan also had a way with words. His vocabulary was impecable, and though his opinion of himself was indeed vaunted, he was far from snobbish. Oftentimes, Jenna thought he hadn't heard her talking to him only to be reassured that he was searching for the ideal word to reply with. He wasn't a pompous speaker, just an efficient one.
Now, challenged by his self-assessment of being unappealing to the opposite sex - and herself in no position to credibly say otherwise, what with her six-packed boyfriend. Such reassurance from her only be seen as condescending mercy-prattle.
That she decided was Ryan's ultimate flaw, and by extension, the answer to her question. He second guessed.
Ryan, for his part, awaited Jenna's answer with anticipation. Debate was a vice of Ryan's and he prided himself on what he felt was logic, or the elimination of unreasonable assumptions, (or what Ryan called, much to the chagrin of Jenna, women's bane.)

(To be continued)

(already mentioned)
Zapp Brannigan

Yog-Sothoth