The Boyfriend of the Month Club (36 page)

“This has been some day, huh, Pop?” Grace said.

Mami and Abuela were off in the kitchen, planning a reception for the new couple. She and Pop were alone in the living room for the first time today.

“It sure has.” He didn’t meet her eyes.

“I’m . . . I’m really sorry about all the stuff that happened at the store.”

“Let me get this right. For the past few months—” He stopped and gave her a questioning look.

“Um, since November,” Grace squeaked.

“For the last
four
months, you’ve conducted these boyfriend meetings at my store. Hundreds of women—”

“It wasn’t hundreds,” Grace rushed. “Except . . . maybe last night, it was,” she admitted.

Pop closed his eyes. Grace could have sworn she heard him chanting something under his breath. “For the past four months, you’ve conducted these boyfriend meetings,” he repeated in an eerily calm voice. “Unknown legions of women have trampled through my store after-hours, some of them bringing in alcohol, and last night the meeting got so out of hand that the police had to be called?”

It all sounded so horrible the way Pop said it. Grace swallowed hard. “I swear to you, Pop, it will never happen again.”

“Oh, I know it won’t.” He shook his head and sighed. “You know I love you, Grace. More than anything, and that’s why this is going to be hard as hell for me to say, but I just got to come out and say it. Tomato, you’re fired.”

30

I Bet Jane Austen Was Fat

“Are you awake?” Ellen’s voice crackled over the phone. “I’m driving in a dead zone so my connection might die, but Grace, you need to turn on the radio. Everyone’s talking about us!”

Grace crawled out of her warm bed, her cell phone clutched to one ear. “What? Who’s talking about us?”

“Speedway Gonzalez! He’s talking about the boyfriend club on his radio show. I called in and—”

“Ellen, you’re not making any sense. It actually sounded like you said you’d called in to Speedway’s show. Hold on a sec.”

First things first. She laid her cell phone down, shuffled to the bathroom, and brushed the gritty feel from her teeth. She wished she could make the pounding in her head disappear as easily, but that was going to require three Tylenol, a gallon of water, and, knowing from previous experience, at least twenty-four hours. Grace didn’t do hangovers well.

Why had she drunk so much last night?

Well, there was Charlie and Sarah’s unexpected news. That had been cause for celebration, even if it didn’t make sense. So the champagne had been happy drinking. But the tequila shots she’d done by herself while watching late-night TV? Those had been the result of feeling sorry for herself.

Who got fired by their own father?

Slackers who didn’t listen to their boss and took their jobs for granted, that’s who
.

“Okay, I’m back. Let’s start at square one. Why would Speedway Gonzalez be talking about the boyfriend club?”

“Because of Shania’s post on
What’s Up, Daytona Beach?
Which is completely awesome, by the way. Shania is totally on our side. She loves the club! You have to read it.”

The call-waiting on Grace’s cell phone beeped. It was Penny. Grace put Ellen on hold. “What’s up?”

“Have you had your morning coffee yet?”

“Is this about the Speedway thing?”

“Grace, it’s bad. Look, I’m pulling into the store. We’ll decide what to do when you get here. I tried calling Sarah but her cell keeps going to voice mail.”

That’s because she and my brother are probably too busy screwing like rabbits.

Coffee! Grace needed coffee. “Pen, I won’t be going to the store this morning. Pop fired me last night.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes, Grace. I’ll see you in fifteen,” Penny said, and hung up.

Grace sighed and clicked the call-waiting back over to Ellen. “Okay, so why would Speedway be talking about us?”

“Because of Shania’s blog!” Ellen said. “Go read it and call me back ASAP. My first class starts in forty minutes, but I’ll have my cell on until then.”

Grace put a pot of coffee on to brew, doctored her first cup of the day with plenty of half-and-half and Splenda, then sat in front of her desk and turned on her computer. She did a Google search for
What’s Up, Daytona Beach
? and clicked on the link. Shania’s blog jumped out in living Pepto Bismol hot pink. “Ugh!” Grace placed her hand up to shield her eyes from the screen until her vision adjusted. Then she took a big gulp of her coffee and began to read.

Using the Power of Literary Archetypes to Determine Dating Compatibility
By Shania Brown

Good grief. This sounded about as interesting as Ellen’s thesis. No wonder Ellen was so excited about it. Grace popped the Tylenol in her mouth and chugged it down with another big gulp of coffee.

Dating in this day and age has become as dangerous as hunting for food must have been for early man. Twenty-first-century carnivores and herbivores disguised in their Armani suits and too-tight jeans crawl, snarl, and bite their way through the dating jungle while ill prepared gatherers haplessly stumble through the romance minefield.

While the odds of finding true love are heavily stacked against us, women right here in Daytona Beach are simply not content to leave it all to chance. Take Grace O’Bryan, the thirty-year-old never-been-married manager of central Florida tourist mecca Florida Charlie’s. Just a few months ago, Grace was like every other woman battling out there in her quest for true love. But unlike her fellow sisters in the hunt, Grace decided to arm herself with the most powerful weapon available—information.

Similar to the format of today’s popular book clubs, Grace established a much more practical group—a boyfriend club that meets once a month and allows women to discuss the men they’ve dated, building up “reviews” they post on a closed Yahoo! site.

But the boyfriend club takes it one step further.

Club cofounder, Ellen Ames, a professor of English at Daytona State College, author of “Undressing the Romantic Hero in Popular Literature,” and web mistress for the club, has developed a simple computer program that matches up boyfriend profiles with well-known literary characters, giving a glimpse of just how likely your “happily ever after” might be. The experiment is in the beginning stages, but Ms. Ames hopes to compile enough data to expound on her original thesis and develop it into a book.

“It’s really pretty simple,” says Ms. Ames. “The key is to pull out the correct four ‘descriptors’ or key words from the critiques that can be placed into the program. I’ve done extensive research on the hundred most popular heroes and villains in well-known English literature, and have created a data bank using their personality traits.”

Fascinating stuff, isn’t it? I decided to give the club a try for myself. What sort of characters do we having running around Daytona Beach, you might ask? Let me give you a sneak peek.

Grace skimmed down to the next part and nearly choked on her coffee.

Meet Iago, the villain from Shakespeare’s
Othello
. In real life he’s actually D, an average-looking CPA who’s climbing the company ladder by sleeping with the boss’s daughter. He’s been described as charming, smart, manipulative, and vengeful. Certainly not someone you’d want to meet in the corner of a dimly lit bar, right, ladies?

Then there’s F, the maître d’ of one of Daytona Beach’s swankiest new French restaurants, who’s been compared to the licentious Henry Crawford from Jane Austen’s
Mansfield Park
. The critique on him alone is worth joining the club for. Frankly, I’d like to know if any man I’m considering dating can only get “inspired” by listening to Céline Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On.”

Not every comparison is negative, however. B, a well-known wealthy Daytona Beach bachelor, has been compared to perhaps the most famous romantic hero of all time—
Pride and Prejudice
’s very own Mr. Darcy. Only this Mr. Darcy plays rugby by day and is secretly into Zumba classes by night. Not that there’s anything wrong with that . . .

And, last but not least, we can’t have a Mr. Darcy running around Daytona Beach without his literary counterpart, none other than the villainous Mr. Wickham. Watch out for this one, ladies! Our modern-day Mr. W is J, a dentist who likes to pick up his conquests at raunchy bars with lines like, “What’s a nice pair of legs like yours doing in a place like this?” I know how I’d answer that one.

There is one element to the experiment that needs refining. “Sometimes, we get two very different views of the same man,” Ms. Ames said in her interview. “Which is to be expected, on occasion. But it’s a variable I’m trying to iron out.”

I was privy to an example of this during the February meeting when one member accused single local attorney C of sexual harassment. Another member jumped vehemently to his defense, creating a near riot that resulted in the police being called.

“There’s a level of subjectivity that can’t be completely ignored,” Ms. Ames said of the encounter. “It’s like a book or a movie review site. Why does the same book receive both five-and one-star reviews? It’s because we can’t take the emotion out of the experience. One woman’s masterpiece is another woman’s dregs. What the boyfriend club offers is information. It’s up to the members to take it in and make up their own minds.”

So there you have it. Internet dating and now boyfriend clubs. What’s next?

Meetings currently take place the first Saturday of the month at nine p.m. at Florida Charlie’s off I-95. But don’t be late! Space is limited.

Grace stared at the screen in horror. The pounding in her head was nothing compared to the pounding in her chest. She speed dialed Ellen.

“Ellen,” she said, trying not to yell into the phone, not out of courtesy for Ellen but because the noise would have hurt her head too much, “please explain how Shania’s blog is being on our side.”

“So you’ve read it?”

“She names names!”

“No, she doesn’t, silly. She gives one little initial.”

“Ellen, there’s only one restaurant in town that fits the description of”—Grace paused to read her computer screen so she could quote it verbatim—“‘Daytona Beach’s swankiest new French restaurant,’ and that would be Chez Louis. Do you really think that Felix isn’t going to recognize himself? And what about Joe? Ellen, you had no permission to write up that file on Joe!”

“Grace, calm down. I know this tiff with Joe has you all upset. And I’m sorry about that file, but you have to admit, the facts do point to Joe being a Wickham. But as for Felix? I’m not the least bit sorry if anyone figures out who he is. Felix deserves to be exposed! He broke your heart, and now he’s just going to have to pay for it.”

“Pay for it? Ellen, this isn’t about revenge, it’s about . . . well, like we’ve been saying, it’s about empowerment. Only I didn’t want to empower all of Daytona Beach! You need to shut down that Yahoo! site.”

“Shut it down? Why would we want to shut it down? Listen, I have to go. Speedway is back on the radio. Talk to you later!”

“Ellen, don’t hang—”

Argh!

Grace turned on the radio.

“Welcome back to The Track, speedsters. This is the one and only Speedway Gonzalez taking you round and round Day-to-na Beach! So, for a quick recap. I thought we’d be doing our typical after-the-big-race show this morning and let you losers call in and lie about how much booty you scored last night. But all you duds want to talk about is this boyfriend club. Some local chick named Shania Brown—Yeah, how about that for a name. I bet she’s fat. What do you think? Shania and her
What’s Up, Daytona Beach?
blog are getting some big buzz. Well, I say nuthin’ happens in Daytona without the Speedster putting in his two pesos’ worth. Seems like some disgruntled chick—What’s her name again? Oh yeah, Grace O’Bryan. I bet she’s fat. What do you think? And Gracie, if you’re out there listening, which I know you are, you’re welcome to call in anytime, baby. Speedway is dying to talk to you.”

Yeah, like that’s ever going to happen.

“So, Grace decided to put together some women’s empowerment group—and can I just say that’s about the stupidest oxy-moron there is. Ladies, listen up! You don’t need to
get
power; you already have it. Just walk into any bar on Beach Street. I guarantee you the dude who’s just spent the last two hours trying to get some chick wasted so he can get her in the sack isn’t thinking, ‘Man, I sure am glad I have all the power here!’

“So back to this boyfriend club. Seems Gracie was fed up with dating losers and decided to get back at some by reviewing the guys she’s shagged. Toss in some more fat friends and we have a club. Whoa! I’m feeling the empowerment, how about you? Word is there’s more than two hundred of them. And guess where they meet? Florida Charlie’s!” Speedway chuckled. “About thirty minutes ago, Ellen Ames, the brainiac of this little empowerment group, called in and went one-on-one with the Speedster. The phones have been ringing off the hook ever since. Here’s what she had so say.”

Oh no.
It was true. Grace hadn’t heard wrong. What could Ellen be thinking? This was beyond awful. Grace turned up the volume.

“Hello? Hello? Is this Mr. Speedway?” Grace heard Ellen say.

“That’s me, baby. So, Ellen, first things first. Are you fat?”

“I’m not going to fall for your stupid macho radio bull. I’m calling to set you straight about the boyfriend club.”