The Wing Girl: A laugh out loud romantic comedy

My face tightened. “Charm school? Are you implying I am without charm?”

All three looked away from me, at each other, then down at the hardwood floor.

And then I heard Harry’s voice in my head. Absolutely no social skills.

“I’ve had boyfriends in the past,” I said, in what I knew was a lame attempt at defending said charm.

Roxanne rolled her eyes. “Again with the college professuh.”

“He was nice,” I said.

“He was an illegal alien who wanted to marry you for a green card,” said Ariel. “And don’t even bring up that fling with the student in that career day class you taught who just wanted a job at your station.”

I felt my lip quivering. Serena noticed, got up, put her arms around me and gave me a strong hug. My eyes narrowed as I bit my lower lip, trying to keep my emotions in check.

Serena pulled back and looked at me. “Let it out, Wing Girl. For once, just let it out.”

“The Brass Cupcake doesn’t cry,” I said, standing up straight, arms folded. “There’s no crying in news.”

“Great, now she’s channeling Tom Hanks,” said Roxanne.

“You’re not an investigative reporter when you’re with us,” said Ariel. “You’re our dear friend, who we know has a huge heart. The problem is, no man can see it. It’s locked away in some journalism vault by this Brass Cupcake alter ego who thinks that if she lets it out her career will dive headfirst into the shitter.”

“Let it out,” said Roxanne.

“There’s nothing to let out!”

“We want you to be happy,” said Ariel.

“I am happy,” I said. “My career—”

“With your life! Ariel got up and tapped me on the head with one knuckle. “Hello! McFly! There’s more to life than work.”

Serena took me by one hand and led me to the couch. “Honey, if you keep going the way you’re going you’ll end up like one of those crazy cat ladies.”

I sat down on the soft leather and let out an audible exhale. I knew they were right. I repelled men. And I did like cats an awful lot. “Fine,” I said. “So what’s the deal with this charm school?”

“First,” said Ariel, as she moved to the white board and grabbed a magic marker, “we’re going to start with what you’re looking for in a man.”

“Pffft. I’ll settle for breathing at this point,” I said.

“Be serious,” said Serena.

“Give us the qualities you’re looking for,” said Ariel.

***

Ten minutes later we all looked at the very long list compiled on the board. Bright sunshine spilled through the large window, illuminating the room but shedding no light on my problem.

Serena furrowed her brow. “Guys, I’m not sure he exists.”

“Fuhgeddaboudit,” said Roxanne. “The only guys left are the Pope and Tim Tebow.”

I shrugged. “So I have high standards.”

“You have unreal standards,” said Ariel. “Your problem is that you’ve spent your life going after politicians who are supposed to be squeaky clean, and you expect the men you date to be that way. Everyone has baggage. Some have a carry-on, others have more than a trophy wife on a European vacation.”

“Fine,” I said. “So I need to lower my standards.”

“You don’t have to lower them,” said Serena, “you just have to learn to accept the fact that there is no one out there with every single quality you want.”

I nodded, realizing they were right. “Okay. So I become more open minded about men. There, we’re done. Let’s go to dinner.”

“Not so fast,” said Ariel. “And not dressed like that. You’re not going out in those outfits anymore.”

I looked down at my clothes, a pair of red and black plaid slacks and a bulky purple sweater. “What’s wrong with this?”

“It’s fine if you wanna pick up a guy at Home Depot,” said Roxanne.

“I always attract men,” I said. “That’s why you call me Wing Girl.”

“The Brass Cupcake attracts men,” said Serena. “Belinda needs to learn how to keep them.”

“Really?” said Ariel. “Pants and flats for a Saturday night?”

“They’re comfortable,” I said.

“Men want heels and skirts,” said Serena. “We know you’ve got great legs under there. We’ve been to the beach with you.”

“And the hair,” said Roxanne, rolling her eyes as she pointed at my head.

“What?” I asked.

“The bun is done,” she said.

“You’re blessed with that beautiful red and you tie it up in a bun of steel,” said Ariel. “Meanwhile, the glasses have got to go. We need to see that green.”

“I can’t see without glasses.”

“As a reporter you should know there’s been a fabulous new invention called contact lenses,” said Serena. “Maybe you’ve read about it.”

“So you’re giving me a total makeover.”

“Yep,” said Ariel.

“Right now?”

***