“Yeah,” I said.
“When you see her, what goes through your mind?”
“That she’s hot and I want to bone her,” I joked.
Zan laughed. “Anything else?” he asked.
“Not really. I’m pretty simple that way.”
Zan nodded. “Want to know what goes through my head?”
“Sure,” I said.
“I see a beautiful woman like that, and I think about who she is. What is it that makes her
tick. What does she like? What does she hate? What turns her on? What excites her?
What makes her breathless? What is she passionate about? When I see a woman, I am
consumed by curiosity about her. And I can not rest until that curiosity is satisfied. But
here’s the thing...”
Zan leaned towards me with a twinkle in his eye.
“My curiosity is never satisfied,” he said, grinning. “There’s always something new to
learn about a woman. Does she talk in her sleep? What do her lips taste like? What does
she do when she’s scared? Or when she’s happy? Or sad? Women are like a never
ending puzzle to me, a puzzle that never gets boring. Did you know when talking to a
woman, I never use any routines or pre-canned stories?”
“Yeah, I knew that,” I said. “You just like to ask questions.”
“Exactly!” cheered Zan. “That’s all I do. I become enraptured with their answers. When
I’m with a girl, my entire world is consumed by them.”
I nodded my head, finally understand what he was getting at.
“No wonder...” I said.
Zan looked at me. “Yes?”
“No wonder your girlfriends don’t get jealous, upset, or demanding,” I replied. “Because
when you’re with them, they feel like they are the only woman in the world for you.”
Zan slammed his fist on the table triumphantly. “By George, I think he’s got it!
Cheers!” he raised his martini and downed the last of it.
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