Her chances being none.īecause she was also surrounded by gorgeous – truly gorgeous women. Looking over the gorgeous, and some not-so-gorgeous, but all acceptable men, she knew the possibility of picking up a man tonight was slim to none. How could she possibly relate to the woman who habitually got drunk and picked up a different man each Friday night if she’d never gotten drunk or picked up a man? She’d told herself she needed to get out and experience life if she wanted to become a successful psychologist. Not wanting good money to go to waste, she picked up a glass and downed the contents in one long gulp. She had hunch she’d be feeling the same way in the morning. Pretty at first but faded and used looking at the end of the day. With the stipulation that if one of them ordered a drink she ordered a round for the table.Įmily had three pink colored drinks lined up in front of her, reminding her of the one legged flamingos stuck in the front yard of a trailer park. They’d agreed to split the bill at the end of the night – cover charges, drinks and food. She had no idea who had ordered them this time she just knew they’d all be paying for them later – literally and figuratively. The bartender brought another round of drinks. She knew all she could possibly want to know about the female population – and some things she truly wished she had never learned, but there were so many blanks in her knowledge when it came to men. But more important, it was difficult to form any lasting relationships with a member of the opposite sex with the restrictions on her time and the inaccessibility of the college coeds. While Wesley was not a fortress with moats and drawbridges guarding the virgins within, it was difficult to date. Majoring in psychology had been hard, leaving her little time to socialize. An all girl’s catholic school until college, then, even though she’d been accepted into Harvard, Yale and Stanford – her dream college, three thousand miles away from her parents – she had attend Wesley, an all girl’s college on the east coast less than a hundred miles away from her parents. Circumstances had forced her to live a very sheltered life. Emily didn’t really get that reference either but she wasn’t about to ask, she appeared naive enough as it was. Really strange considering the type of club they were in.Ī Mandingo Club. The last word was almost shouted, earning the group some strange stares. “Anything, and I mean anything, but penis!” “Cock, dick, jackhammer.” She threw her hands up in frustration. “Say what?” She had a very good idea what her friend meant, but was so not going to say it. The gaggle of women seated around her burst into gales of laughter. “Why two numbers? Cause let me tell you if you see a sixteen inch penis coming at you, I suggest you turn and run the other way.” “So, I get the low numbers – six, seven, eight, nine, ten – and even the twelve, but what are the others?” Emily Thorton motioned to a man with a twelve on his back and a sixteen on his front.
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