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To: Mel Fuller No, it wasn't just you. The other night was totally weird. Well, except for you, I mean. You're never weird. I just meant the circ.u.mstances. I've known Genevieve Trent for a long time. My whole life, actually. But I don't believe there's any possibility of anything romantic developing between the two of us, in spite of the fact that it might offer a solution to my credit card problems. She really enjoyed meeting you, by the way. And the piece you wrote about the benefit was very touching. I imagine every charity in town must be calling, inviting you to come write about them next, you do it so eloquently. As for dinner, I would be delighted. Only I wish you'd let me take you out. I still owe you, remember, for saving Aunt Helen? So how about tomorrow night? If you're feeling up to it, I mean. I'll make reservations--it'll be a surprise. But I guarantee we're not going to Fresche. John To: [email protected] From: Mel Fuller All right, if you insist. But you really don't have to. You know, if you would just let me cook, then you could save your money and actually pay off your credit cards. It's a novel thought, I know, but it is what normal people do. But I guess it's pretty clear neither of us are all that normal. I mean, normal people aren't really obsessed with hurricanes and sinkholes, are they? So I guess the whole normal thing is ruled out, as far as we're concerned. Oh, well. Just promise me you won't spend a lot. I'm not really a champagne kind of girl. Beer suits me just fine. Mel To: David J. Belew Dear David, Remember how after I got Patty to do that Dining Section expose on hard-to-get-in restaurants, and how yours was the only one that she declared worth the three month wait? And you said I had a table anytime I wanted? Well, I want one. For two. And you've got to hold it under the name of Max Friedlander, and when I show up, that's how your staff should greet me. Okay? Also, make sure you've got ice cream with chunks in it for dessert. Chocolate chunks are best. That's all I can think of right now. I'll call later to confirm. John To: John Trent John, I hate to disappoint you, but at Belew's, rated four stars by the ill.u.s.trious newspaper for which you toil daily; three stars by the Michelin guide; top restaurant in New York City by Zagat's; and recipient of not one but two Beard awards, thanks to the culinary talents of yours truly, we do not serve ice cream with chunks in it. No, not even chocolate chunks. I will, of course, see that a table is held for you, and even instruct my staff to call you Max Friedlander. But I'm afraid I must draw the line at chunks. Dave To: Mel Fuller Or is there some other reason why you are humming I Feel Pretty under your breath? Which, by the way, is only slightly annoying to those of us who have to work near you. Nadine To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k I know. It seems hard to believe. But it's true. Want to know why I'm happy? Because I'm going out tonight. On a date. An actual date. With a man. What man, you ask? Why, Max Friedlander, if you must know. Where are we going? It's a surprise. But guess what? He's paying. And even though it's to say thank you for saving his aunt's life--though I must say I'm not sure she'd really appreciate my efforts, considering what her quality of life is at the moment--it's still a date. And Mrs. Friedlander might get better. So yes, I guess you could say that overall, I'm very happy. But if my humming bothers you, I'll stop, by all means. Mel To: Mel Fuller Darling, is it true? You and Max, I mean? You're so calm about it, sweetie, that's why I ask. I mean, considering it's the first time a man has asked you out since...well, you know. Why, speak of the devil...there he is, sulking over by the copier as we speak. Poor, poor Aaron.I would think you'd at least head over to b.u.mble and b.u.mble for a blow out and a manicure. Pedicure, too, if you're planning on going open-toe. And you know, I know the best little place for bikini waxing that is, if you think tonight is THE night. We always want to look our best in our Christian Diors, now, don't we? You know, I hear the Sphinx is becoming quite popular. Since I know you don't know what that is, I'll explain. It's when they wax not just your bikini line, but the whole Oh, pooh. Peter's on the phone. More later, I promise. x.x.xOOO. Dolly To: Mel Fuller Okay, I know it's been a long time (that little movie-and-a-slice thing you guys did doesn't count nor that night at Fresche when we all inspected him, or that other night you ended up spending at the animal hospital) so I'm going to make sure you haven't forgotten anything in your date survival kit. Now, check each off these items before you leave the apartment so you'll be sure not to forget them: 1.Lips tick 2.Compact 3.Metrocard (in case you need to make a quick getaway) 4.Money for cab fare (in case you need to make a quick getaway and there are no subway stops nearby) 5.Coverup in case he dumps you and you start crying and your mascara runs 6.Pas sport (in case he chloroforms you, puts you on a plane to Dubai, and sells you into white slavery, and you need to prove to the authorities after you escape that you are an American citizen) 7.Altoids 8.Hairbrush 9.Clean undies (just in case you end up spending the night) 10.Condoms (ditto) Hope this helps. Nad To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k Thanks for that list of things I will supposedly need on my date, but you are forgetting one thing: WE LIVE NEXT DOOR TO EACH OTHER. So if I need clean underwear, I'll just have to go across the hall. Now stop talking about it. Between you and Dolly, I dont know who's making me more nervous. It's just dinner, for G.o.d's sake. Oh, G.o.d, I have to go, or I'm going to be late. Mel To: Mel Fuller Do be sure you use a condom, darling, because Maxie has been around, if you know what I mean. Well, think about it. All those models. There's no telling where they've been, bony little delights that they are. Ta for now. x.x.xOOO. Dolly To: From: Jason Trent How'd it go? Jason PS Stacy made me ask. To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k that the reason your phone has been busy for the past three hours is because you're yakking away to Mel about her date. Well, could you spare your fiance. one minute of your time to answer this serious question: Who are you planning on seating next to my great aunt Ida at the reception? Because my mom says whoever is sitting by her has to make sure she doesn't get any champagne. You remember the trailer park fire Ida caused at the last family function, right? Let me know. Love ya Tone PS My mom says if you seat her by Ida, she'll commit hari-kari on the spot. To: Tony Salerno online yakking with Mel. I haven't heard from Mel since the last time I saw her, which was when she left work to go home and change for her big dinner with Max. I mean, John. What is with that name thing, anyway? Where does somebody get the nickname JOHN? John is not a nickname. Anyway, I was online looking up gifts for our wedding party. What do you think of cufflinks for the guys, and earrings for the girls? Now that I think of it, it is kind of funny I haven't heard from Mel. It's been twenty-four hours. She never goes twenty-four hours without returning my calls. Well, except for when her neighbor got conked on the head. Oh, my G.o.d, you don't think anything's happened to her, do you? I mean, do you think Max/John might have kidnapped her? And sold her into white slavery? Should I call the police, do you think? Nad