Trust Fund Baby ~ 17 A Satire

Chapter 17

I have a difficult time being with beautiful woman. They do not intimidated me. I’ll walk up to a beautiful woman at the bar scene and use my best pick up lines. The line that works best for me is an invitation to join me on a trip to Rio or Paris or Rome. I’m like any other guy who considers Men’s Magazine his bible. It was fun but it was never fatal. I never said the L word. It’s different now. I can’t describe how I feel. The more I push her out of my mind, the more she resists. It’s in the way she looks at me. Her eyes destroy any will to resist, not that I ever had much will to resist a beautiful woman. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. I gawk. I drool. My tongue hangs out of my mouth like a dog happy its human is home. 

My beautiful, glamorous, stunning, divine, and irresistible coffee colored with a touch of cream J. It’s in the way she walks. It’s in the way she talks. It’s in her cocked hip. It’s in her perfect body made for me. Where was I? Oh, J’s staring at me from the door. I’m still sitting in my group chair. I said the first thing that came into my mind, “Do you need a back rub? If you don’t I could use one.”

“You think I’m going to rub your back? What’s makes you think such a stupid thought? Huh?”

“I don’t know. I like to toss out ideas and see what sticks,” I answered.

J put her hand to her forehead and shook it. I have a thirteen year old nephew and a six year old nephew and they both are more mature than you. How does that make you feel?” said J pointing an accusing finger at me.

I cocked my head a bit, put a finger to the tip of my chin, and said, “That’s a good question. I’m thinking you’re paying me a compliment because you’re in love with me. When I was in school I had a crush of Laura Stephenson. This was when I was in third grade. I’d take her books and make her chase me. I think this is what you’re trying to do to me.”

J turned in the doorway to the floor to ceiling painting of Grandmother Houston. She went eyeball to eyeball with her. I can’t do this. Grandmother’s  eyes are creepy. I’ve thought of having a mardi gras mask painted over her face. Even if it were a macabre mask, it would be an improvement.

J didn’t seem bothered by Grandmother Houston’s eyes. She said,  “You old fool. What were you thinking giving this dumb ass boy a trust fund worth millions. What is wrong with you? You’re wasting your money. You should have required he had vasectomy. …”

I couldn’t take anymore. I interrupted J, “You’ve crossed a line there, sister.”

“Who you calling sister. I ain’t your sister. Even if I was your sister, I wouldn’t admit it to anybody.”

“I don’t want you to be my sister. I want you to be my mistress, my lover, and my wife. Let’s stop this charade and have sex on the office floor.”

J slowly turned around and stared at me. Then it happened. Again. The laugh. Her wonderful laugh that starts down in the bottom of her belly and works it s way through her body like the tide coming in until it envelopes her entire being. She placed her left hand on the short guy’s chair to brace herself. My heart was in overdrive, I was making the love of my life happy. I was making her laugh. I wonder what it was that I said that made her laugh?

When J regained control, she said, “What makes you think I want to have sex with you?”

“My charm?”

“Not a chance,” she said.

“My masculine looks and wit?” I said hoping I hit the correct answer.

“You’re kidding, right?” she said.”

“My money?”

“Wrong again,” said J.

“I give up. Why do you want to have sex me?” 

J began to take in large gulps of air as if she were a engine on a jet plane careening down a runway. I do not. I don’t. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“What?” I asked sincerely,

“Have sex with you, ever.”

I smiled at her, and said, “We’re making progress in our relationship. I’m really turned on, how about you?”

J sat down in the short guy’s chair and the sounds coming out of her were something I once heard at the zoo when the hyenas got into whatever they do when hyenas are having foreplay.

J composed herself. She raised her hand and turned her palm toward me and said, “Not another word. Not another word. I’m going to do all the talking. You do not speak unless I ask you. Nod if you understand.”

I nodded.

“You don’t have a clue do you?”

I looked at her. I didn’t say anything because my black Venus hadn’t given me permission to speak. I also didn’t have a clue.

She looked puzzled for a second. She was about to say something, then stopped. “I get it. I didn’t ask you to speak.”

I nodded proudly.

“Let me begin again. You don’t have a clue about being a psychologist or how to run a group, do you? You can speak.”

“What’s there to know?”

“You did more harm than good today, don’t your agree?” asked J.

I thought about it for a second and said, “I thought I did pretty good. For one, I got the short guy to express his anger. Two, I believe my encouraging the woman with small breasts and collagen lips to get breast enhancement was very creative. Should I go on?”

“I don’t know where to begin,” said J.

“How about having lunch with me. If we need more time, I know where we can go for drinks.”

“No. Please don’t ask me again.”

“Do you want to come home with me and meet Mother and Father?”

“What did I just say,” said J.

“I wasn’t talking about lunch or drinks.”

“I don’t need lunch. I need a drink, maybe more than one,” said J shaking her head and sighing. A neat trick. Not too many people can pull this off.

“I know just the place. Only respectable people, you know, filthy rich. They carry the most expensive wines in the world. It will be perfect to talk about the next step in our torrid relationship.”

J looked at me and said, “I am going to drink alone. If I turn around and see you …”

“You’ll rush to me and ask forgiveness,” I said helping J out by finishing her sentence.

“Don’t you dare follow me,” said J.

I understand, you need quiet time to think about how you’ll tell your parents you’re taking our relationship to the next level.”

J stared at me for a moment. She shook her head and walked away.

“J? J? I said calling after her. She didn’t respond. I think I’ll broach the subject tomorrow about getting a hearing aid. I’m a very sensitive male so I’ll bring it up in a way she’ll respect me even more than what she already does.


Author: Ray Calabrese

I am an optimistic, can do, and never quit guy. The spirit of hope indelibly marks my DNA. My research at The Ohio State University helped people discover the best in themselves and change their personal lives, public organizations, and whole communities. I bring the same spirit and enthusiasm to my blog to help those who grieve who find themselves suddenly alone, navigate their grieving. Join my more than 24,300Twitter (@alwaysgoodstuff). I promise my tweets are always good stuff. Please feel free to email me at

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