The Naked Girl

My friend Corey meets this woman named Michelle in abar.  After a brief chat, the two exchange numbers and email addresses,then meet for drinks a week later.  Fireworks aren’t going off, thoughCorey finds Michelle attractive and worth a second date, which he letsher know as they part ways at evening’s end.  

A couple days later, Corey gets an email from Michelle; she had agreat time, he’s a fun guy, all that jazz.  Attached to the email is aphotograph of Michelle looking wistfully out her bedroom window… 

…naked. 

According to Corey, the picture was tasteful, more soft core thanTriple-X.  Still, he was baffled by this new development and couldn’tfigure out why he wasn’t jumping at the chance to join Michelle at herbedroom window.  Though she may not have elicited the response shesought, Michelle was successful in dominating Corey and myconversations for the next week, thus becoming ‘The Naked Girl.’ 

“Did you respond to the Naked Girl yet?”  I asked him over drinks. 

“I would if I knew what to say.” 

Observing Corey navigate the realms of premature nudity was aneducation in the workings of the male mind.  His first instinct was toask the gal if she’d seen that week’s episode of Lost withoutmaking any reference whatsoever to the photo; a glaring example of howmen too often believe completely ignoring the big, naked elephant inthe room is better than meeting it head on.  Corey’s avoidance was anattempt to be kind.  What a relief to discover evasion isn’t always asign a man is a putz.  Made me feel lots better about the times I’vesent “I love you” or “we really need to talk” texts and gotten messageslike, “what did you have for lunch?” in return. 

There seemed only two places from which Michelle’s sexy messagecould have come: either she was a ravenous sex machine who only wantedbooty, thus sending the photo was simply cutting to the chase. Otherwise, she was a psychological mess who, for whatever reason,thought the nude approach was the best way to endear herself to apotential mate. 

The whole ordeal had my friend coming up against his ownconscience.  Good Corey thought it wrong to take advantage of a womanin whom he had minimal romantic interest.  But Bad Corey wondered ifher blatant overture permitted him to “’bleep’ her like the tramp sheis.” 

Really, the poor fella was at a loss.  If she was a nice but messylady, he wanted to save her any embarrassment.  If she was hot to trot,he wouldn’t mind keeping the option open.  But if there was any chanceof love blooming, he didn’t want this act to be the seed.

“Tell her the truth,” I suggested.

“I don’t know what the truth is,” he said.  “All I know is I’m uncomfortable and don’t know what this means.”

“Say that,” I told him. 

Corey learned a lesson that day.  Rather than dodging or joking ordisappearing all together, he expressed his true feelings.  Whathappened was a dialogue opened.  Maybe the whole relationship endsthere, but at least they can walk away with their dignity in tact andwithout questions remaining unanswered. 

I learned a lesson, too.  We ladies feel entitled to express in fulleverything we feel, both love and lust, our anger and overwhelmingneed.  But when you see it from a man’s perspective, you realize howcoming on too strong brings nothing but forced obligation and loads ofdiscomfort. 

So maybe men could be a bit more direct and women could take a step back.  Or at least save the nudie pics for the second date.

**Reprinted from Laura K. Warrell's blog Tart&Soul at www.TartandSoul.com.