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Authors: Mimi Jefferson

BOOK: The Bride Experiment
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Chapter 7
“Hello, gentlemen.” James watched as his class of middle-aged men turned around in their chairs and faced him. Instantly their chattering voices ceased and they sat up straight in their chairs.
James almost felt sorry for them. There isn't anything more pathetic than a grown man who needs help getting a woman. They come in every week, most of them early, hoping to get a seat near the front. They act like if they can get close enough to him, perhaps some of his magic would rub off on them.
The Adult Learning Catalog
listed dozens of teachers who thought they could teach everything from “How to Sell a Home” to “How to Write a Book in a Year.” James's class was “How to Get Any Woman You Want.”
James started teaching the class on a dare. One of his former classmates wanted to see if James was playa enough to teach his skills to a group of losers. At first, James declined, claiming he didn't have time due to graduate school. However, James changed his mind when he started failing one of his courses. He dropped out of graduate school and paid the $250 to have the description of the class, cost, and location placed in
The Adult Learning Catalog
. The catalog, in turn, promised to distribute the information about James's class all over town.
From the first day he started teaching it four years ago, the class had been overbooked each quarter. His ex-students wrote recommendations:
James is a genius,
or
I finally got that blonde at work to need me, like I needed her,
or
This class saved my life. I hadn't been on a date in a year, now I date three or four times a week, with women more beautiful than I could have imagined.
James had expected to stop teaching after his wedding, but now, as he glanced at his notes, he was glad he had not mentioned getting married to the men in his class. He hadn't even bothered to tell them he was engaged, afraid they might misinterpret it for weakness.
Not only did he need to continue the class, but he needed to have more classes—now that he had lost his day job. He had been holding back, only giving the men nuggets of wisdom, but now he needed to take it to another level. He needed them hungry for more and spreading the word about his classes. Next quarter, not only was he adding several more sessions, but he was going to charge twice as much as he had been.
James cleared his throat as he slowly walked into the middle of the room. He felt like a superhero when he was in this old office building in the southwest side of town. In other suites, on other floors, there were doctor offices, nail salons, and a variety of other businesses. But in this room on the eighth floor, stuck in a corner, was an entirely different type of business, the business of learning to run a woman. Men from all over town flocked to this all-male chat session each Monday evening, hoping to get a piece of wisdom that would ensure that by Friday night beautiful women would be in their beds.
“Gentlemen, I hate to tell you this, but I've been holding back,” James admitted to his students. “It has been hard for me to be completely honest with you. I was afraid to reveal the real playa rules. I was afraid to have this valuable information in the wrong hands. But over our time together, I think that you are a very mature group and you are ready to learn this highly delicate information.”
James made eye contact with the men. He crossed the room slowly, his gaze transferring from one man to the other until he had sized up all twenty-two of them. He wanted to smile but held it in. They were practically drooling.
“So tonight I will open up my golden rule book. I assure you I have never done this before. These secrets have been tried and tested and virtually are failure proof. If you want her, you can have her. ” James paused for effect. “That is, if you can handle it.
“Can you handle it, Mr. Banks?” James went down the roll. “Can you handle it, Mr. Brooks? Can you handle it, Mr. Clay? Can you handle it, Mr. Davidson?”
After James completed the roll and was satisfied that he had sufficiently enticed the men, he sat down on a stool in the middle of the room. The men brought their chairs inward so they wouldn't miss anything. The shuffling of paper and chairs screeching on the floor permeated the room.
James waited for everyone to settle down. “Rule number one, if you want to have sex with a beautiful woman, don't mention sex, ever.” The men looked puzzled, but that didn't stop them from feverishly scribbling on their notepads.
“Beautiful women know that they are attractive. They have been told this all of their lives. They know they have bodies that we meditate on, long after they leave the room. They know we want to have sex with them. They feed off it. They have the control and we don't. But there is a way to have her eating out of your hands.”
James glanced down at his notes. “You can't walk up to a beautiful woman and say, ‘Hey, hottie, you fine as heck, and I want to get with you, no strings attached just pure sex for the fun of it.'” James shook his head. “That wouldn't work, would it?”
“So what does?” one of the men asked.
James took a deep breath, as if he was about to release the greatest hoax ever. “Let's say there's a dropdead gorgeous woman who sits at the back table at the coffee shop you frequent. She sits back there, day after day, typing on her laptop, completely oblivious to the fact that you want to jump her bones. She's beautiful, unapproachable, and unconcerned about you.
“Beautiful women tend to have few or no real friends, because women hate them, and men are always trying to sleep with them. Beautiful women are just like other women; they love to talk. Only, beautiful women have very few opportunities to
just
talk. They crave the opportunity to have a conversation, where there are no strings attached.” James looked at the men and pointed. “That's where you come in.
“You walk into that coffeehouse and you approach this woman. You tell her you need her advice desperately, if she could only spare thirty seconds. You explain that your girlfriend from out of town is coming in a few days and you want to make the weekend extremely special, only you can't figure out what to do. Normally, you wouldn't be this out of sorts, but your girlfriend is a beautiful woman, and frankly she's a bit out of your league. She's been a lot of places and done a lot of things. A simple date just won't work. She's coming all these miles and you need to make an impression. You are so excited to be with her and desperately in love, even considering marriage. Does she have any suggestions?”
James's voice dropped to almost a whisper. He folded his arms and scanned the room again. “What have you done, my friends?”
His normal voice returned. “Your coffee lady is about to put her guard down. You are a simple guy only looking for thirty seconds of her time. Of course, you will use more time, but she appreciates your desire to be brief. You have told her you are desperately in love with another woman. So she doesn't have to worry about you trying to jump her bones. Then you asked her for suggestions, satisfying her need to be heard. Finally she gets to voice her opinion in a comfortable atmosphere. You, my brother, are in! All you have to do is sit back and listen and pretend, as if everything you are hearing rings absolutely true.
“The next week, your coffee lady will be in her exact same spot, waiting for a full report on how everything went with your girlfriend. As the hours went by, you had become more and more intriguing. All weekend long, she wondered about you and how the weekend was going.
“You walk into the coffee shop as happy as can be. You tell her how much your girlfriend enjoyed her suggestions and how grateful you are. You only wish your girlfriend could have stayed in town. Only, she's working on a big project and can't move, and you need to stay close to town, too, because of a job you love too much to leave. Then abruptly end the conversation. Don't make it seem like you are trying to prolong the conversation. She will not want you to leave, but she's not about to admit that. Go back to your side of the coffee shop, sip your coffee as you text or phone your imaginary girlfriend. The coffee shop lady will be watching your every move, even if it seems she never looks up from her keyboard. You are proving to her that you are not the least bit interested in her. This is key.” James wanted to smile, but he remained serious. He could tell the men couldn't wait to hear the rest of his lesson.
“Once you finish your coffee, hang up your phone, then get ready to leave. Make it to the door, then turn back. Walk over to the coffee shop lady and say, ‘My girlfriend really enjoyed this weekend. She just told me again. I was going to blank-blank restaurant for dinner tonight. I would love to show you my appreciation.' Make sure the restaurant is close by. She will not mind having a quick bite with you, but she needs to be able to do so with little effort. If she can drive her own car and stay in close vicinity to the coffee shop, she maintains her control, or so she thinks.
“But this is all a part of the plan to become her new best friend. Laugh at her jokes and compliment her on her intelligence. Never, and I mean
never,
compliment her on her looks or her body. You need to satisfy the need in her that says she's more than just a pretty face and a nice body. Pay very close attention to her. What does she like to read or eat? Who does she admire? What does she like about her job? What doesn't she like? Who would she most like to meet? Is something big happening in her life? Is she up for a new job? Is her sister having a baby? Is her dad sick? What is it that she admires about the lady who sits in the cubicle next to her? What does she hate about her?
“You need to know these things because this is how you are going to spark new and interesting conversations with her the next time you see her. She will be so surprised that you remembered she was up for a new job or that she was about to become an aunt for the first time. Most men never learn this step. They spend entirely too much time talking about themselves, and not enough time talking to the woman. And what she tells them, they don't bother to remember.
“So with this technique, my friends, you will stand out bigger than the rest. You will have her waiting at the coffeehouse looking for you so she can tell you the next big thing that just happened in her life. And you will be all too interested to hear about everything. Afterward, you will offer follow-up questions about the things you talked about last time.
“So when does the sex come in? With this particular technique, I average about six weeks. By the third week, she's at my place or I'm at hers. By the fourth week, we are touching casually.”
“What do you mean ‘casually'?” one of the men blurted out.
“I mean, when you briefly grab her hand while you talk to her. Or, as you are watching a movie, you briefly place your hand on her thigh before removing it. It's when you hug when you arrive and when you leave,” James explained.
“By the fifth week, you will be kissing. You will not need to mention your girlfriend after this point. The coffee lady has had enough of her by now. On the sixth week, you do something special. Offer to take her to the beach for the weekend to celebrate finishing up that project or completing her classes for the semester. This is the week she will be in a hotel room screaming your name.
“Men, listen to me”—James bent down—“I don't care if you collect garbage for a living and this woman is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. If you patiently follow my techniques, you will not fail.” The students started to clap.
“Women are always complaining about there being no romance in a relationship. Men think romance is expensive dinners and flowers, but real romance is much cheaper than steak and roses. Have you ever seen an ugly, broke man with a beautiful woman?” The men nodded. “Sure, if you have money, power, good looks, you can have your share of women, but when you don't have that, you just have to work a little harder. If you stick with me, I'll give you a step-by-step growth plan. The technique I told you about today is only the beginning.”
James's heartbeat suddenly started to race. His hands and face started to sweat and his throat felt dry.
“Are you okay, sir?” one man asked.
James didn't respond.
Another man shouted, “Somebody call 911!”
Of course, James wasn't okay, but how was he supposed to explain to them that their fearless leader was not fearless anymore? And even though he had never had a panic attack in his life, he was almost certain he was having one now.
He needed to find a way to speak. He drank a sip of water and put all of his effort into saying, “Gentlemen, I just remembered something. I have to go. Feel free to e-mail me whatever questions you may have. See you next week.”
The men looked at each other, puzzled, but James grabbed his belongings and stumbled for the parking garage before anybody could stop him.
Chapter 8
When Joan saw the silver-embroidered pillows at the furniture store, she gasped. They were so pretty she hoped that by adding them to her sofa, they would make her forget about what she and James had almost done on it. Every time she walked past her sofa, it reminded her of James Sr. She adjusted and readjusted the new pillows, hoping something would stop his muscular silhouette from appearing in her mind.
It was pointless. She gave up after she glanced at the clock. It was only fifteen minutes before her friends would start to arrive for their weekly Bible Study. The salmon canapés were chilling in the refrigerator and the chicken satay was already on the table. When they had their meetings, her friends expected to eat, and eat well. Joan made sure she didn't disappoint them.
She looked around the room again to make sure there were no signs of anything that might offend her friends. There was no wine, or wineglasses, or even a steamy romance novel. Then she put out the vase her friend Lila had bought her. The vase was hideous, but Lila thought it was beautiful, so Joan put it out when Lila was around. Joan then spread her Bibles and Christian literature around. Her friends expected this of her. She had to be strong for them. She had to at least look like she had it together. When they were gone, then she could be herself.
Joan passed her journal on her way to the kitchen. She had yet to talk to God about the incident with James. When she was brushing her teeth, it came up. As she was mindlessly waiting for a traffic light, it came up. While she was ironing her son's shirts, it came up. Yet, Joan pushed it down. She was an excellent Bible student, familiar with all the scriptures related to sexual sin. She knew what God had to say, and right now, she wasn't ready to recall it.
What did God expect her to do? Wasn't it natural for her to have sexual energy? Would one night with James really be that bad? Yes, being a single celibate Christian had worked for a while, but now it was no longer working. What if God wanted her to be single forever? What if there was never going to be a husband?
Not one man had approached her in weeks. No wonder she was such easy prey for James Sr. She thought it would be okay if she filled her days with working in the bakery, and filled her nights with numerous activities. She and her son had a full calendar. On Mondays, they would have their special little date of going to a restaurant and watching a movie together. On Tuesdays, James Jr. had karate and Joan had kickboxing. On Wednesday, they went to Bible Study. Thursdays were spent helping out in the community at the neighborhood recreation center, and on Fridays, James Jr. was off to spend the weekend with his dad or his grandparents. She had recurring appointments at the hair salon and nail shop at the same time.
Weekends were spent with her friends. Joan was so tired of spending every weekend with her friends, she could scream. For once, she wanted to be able to say she had to miss this or that outing because some strong, employed, handsome, well-adjusted, Christian gentleman had asked her out for coffee. But here it was—another Saturday night—and all she had to look forward to was Tisha, Lila, and Janet.
Lila was the first to arrive, as usual. “Hey, girl.” Lila walked in the room and turned around in a circle. Joan clapped as Lila did an imaginary catwalk sashay down Joan's hardwood floors. Lila was almost down to her goal weight, and she didn't need anybody to tell her she looked fabulous in her red sundress and strappy black sandals. Her natural hair was in two-strand twists that hung right below her neck. Two years ago, she was overweight, insecure, and jobless, but one certainly couldn't tell by looking at her now.
Joan smiled after Lila stopped pretending to be “America's next top model.”
“You look wonderful! Who are those sandals by? I must get myself a pair.”
“Sanfrann. They were on sale last week. I got a pair in black and in dark brown.”
Joan pointed to her own ensemble of cotton workout pants and an oversized T-shirt. “You look a little overdressed for Bible Study.”
Lila lit up more than she already was and blurted out, “I have a date.” The doorbell rang. Joan immediately turned away to answer the door, thinking the entire time,
Lila didn't just say she had a date.
Tisha came in with two oversized pillows, laptop, and a suitcase full of books. Ever since Tisha started going to the College of Biblical Studies, she carried her schoolbooks everywhere she went. The oversized pillows signaled that Tisha was planning to stay the night. Joan sighed, but Tisha was too busy hauling in her luggage to notice.
“Don't close the door, Joan,” Tisha warned. “Janet was pulling up right behind me. I was going to wait for her, but my hands were loaded with too much stuff.” Joan sighed again and walked down the hall.
This was going to be a long night. Lila had a date
. How can Lila have a date before me?
Joan walked in the hallway and waited for Janet.
The elevator doors opened. Janet was a pitiful sight at seven and a half months pregnant. She had acne like a teenager, and her face looked several shades darker than the rest of her body. Her hair was in micro braids that should have been taken out weeks ago.
Sonya, Joan's new neighbor, was walking in the elevator as Janet was walking out. “Hi, Joan,” Sonya said.
Sonya had on a pretty gold evening gown and was obviously going somewhere special. Joan gave her a quick, fake smile before grabbing the fruit salad Janet was holding.
Joan shook her head. Sonya was going out for a night on the town and she was stuck holding a pregnant woman's fruit salad. Joan told Janet repeatedly that she didn't need to bring anything, but Janet refused to show up each week without a box of gourmet tea, homemade cookies, or some other knickknack Joan didn't need.
Joan said hello, but Janet held her hand to her chest, signaling to Joan she was too out of breath to talk. They silently walked down the hall to Joan's place.
Janet plumped herself on the sofa, where Tisha and Lila were seated. Joan headed to the kitchen to put away the fruit salad.
“Are you okay?” Tisha asked Janet.
Lila smirked. “There is nothing wrong with her except she's pregnant.”
After a few moments, Janet gained her composure. “I could slap you, Lila and Joan. Y'all did not tell me it was going to be like this. You made being pregnant look easy. Walking around in heels and wearing stylish clothes.” She exhaled loudly. “I cannot breathe. I'm having pains I don't like. Oh, and don't let me tell you about the heartburn and the gas, and I have never been this constipated in my life. I can't find a comfortable position to sleep in, and my feet are disappearing from my vision, more and more each day.”
Lila laughed and tapped Janet on the thigh. “Oh dear, just wait until the first contractions start.”
Janet rolled her eyes.
Tisha looked worried. “Is it really that bad?”
Joan put the fruit salad in the refrigerator and yelled, “Yes.” She turned to Tisha. “Did you forget how much I was moaning and screaming with James Jr.? I felt like somebody was trying to pull my organs out, one by one.”
Janet and Tisha gasped.
Lila shook her head. “My water broke at the grocery store. I was too embarrassed. I thought that was the worst thing that could have happened to me. Then I got to the hospital and lost control of my bowels.”
Joan teased. “That happened to you too, girl.”
“You see why we didn't tell you,” Lila said. “There are just some things you don't need to know. It will all be worth it in the end, though. Being pregnant is a beautiful thing. I love my Jasmine.”
Tisha started to act like she was itching. “All this baby talk is making me nervous. Let's eat and start talking about something else. Please!”
Tisha grabbed a plate from the table and handed one to the other ladies. “Joan, would you like to say the blessing?”
Joan paused for a moment. “No, I always do it. You go ahead and bless the food.” Tisha did, and Joan served the ladies.
“This is delicious,” Janet said. “I love when Saturday night comes around and so does my hubby. He reminded me to bring him a plate before he left home to play basketball with his buddies.”
“One day, I'm going to have a man I need to bring home a plate to,” Tisha said, chomping on a piece of salmon. After Tisha swallowed her food, she got this serious look in her eyes. She put her plate down and said, “Ladies, last night the Lord woke me up. I feel led to talk about some things today.”
Joan took a deep breath. She should have known they couldn't have a nice meal together without Tisha preaching.
“Ladies, I want to tell you what each of you mean to me.” Lila and Janet put down their plates and turned toward Tisha. Joan continued to eat.
“Janet,” Tisha proceeded to say, “you are an inspiration to me. I see how Jesus blessed you when you received Him into your life. I see how He gave you a godly husband when you became a godly woman. I thank you for your prayers. Because you could have just left me, Joan, and Lila in the world, but you didn't. You prayed for God to show us the way. I am eternally grateful for that.”
Tisha turned to Joan and Lila. Joan continued to eat. Tisha said, “Ladies, it has been a few years since we joined
The Single Sister Experiment.
We wanted to know what would happen if we gave up sex. Well, it took us a while to be obedient and we went through more drama than a little bit. It seemed as if we would not find our way. But God saw fit for us not only to find our way, but to make it to His side with our friendship in tact.
“Thank you, Lila and Joan, for walking this walk with me. Thank you for listening to me when I couldn't stop talking about my mother's death, or my ex-boyfriend, or my money problems.” Tisha laughed. “I know I was getting on your nerves, but instead of telling me to shut up, you let me talk so I could heal.”
“You could work a nerve, girl,” Lila said.
Tisha grabbed Lila's hand. “As cousins, we have always been a part of each other's lives, but now that we are Christian women, we are a part of each other's spirits. I watched God take you out of the darkness and bring you into the light. You have always been stunning, but now that you have overcome your food addiction, God has revealed a spark that I didn't know existed in you.”
Joan had to agree. Not only did Lila look like a new person, she acted like a new person. She was always smiling and energetic. She was like a dose of sunshine. Joan could see why single men would be attracted to her.
Tisha grabbed Joan's hand. Finally Joan put down her plate. “We have been best friends since middle school. What we have is rare, and I do not take it lightly. Thank you for introducing me to Jesus. I watched God change you and that's how I knew He could change me. Thank you for giving me a place to stay when I couldn't afford a place to lay my head. Thank you for being a great example of what a godly single woman should be.”
Tears dropped down Tisha's face. “Ladies, I just want you to know that you are the answers to my prayers. I thank Jesus for the changes He has made in all of our lives. I can't help but cry every time I think of what God has brought us through in this short time of rolling with Him.”
Lila looked up. “It has only been a short time, but we have made so many positive steps. I didn't think I would ever get over it when Steve kicked my daughter and me out. But that was the best thing that ever happened to me. I surrendered it all to Jesus, and He showed me He is more than sufficient to supply all of my needs.
“Now I have a decent job that allows me to provide for my daughter. I'm finally at a place where I can teach her not to go down the same path I did. And for the cherry on top of the sundae, I have been dating one of Pastor Benjy's elite eight.”
“What?” Joan and Tisha cried out in unison.
Tisha said, “You mean
our
Pastor Benjy?”
“You mean Minister Makita's husband, Pastor Benjy,” Joan added.
Lila laughed. “Yes,
our
Pastor Benjy. The senior pastor of our church, the Miller Street Church. Yes, the one married to Minister Makita. I am as shocked as you are. ”
Joan and Tisha continued to look confused. Janet asked, “What is Pastor Benjy's elite eight?”
“Pastor Benjy is committed to making young men into godly husbands and life-changing Christians,” Lila explained. “Every few years, he takes a group of men with exceptional leadership qualities and mentors them personally.”
Tisha added, “Janet, it is so clear that you are married, because every single Christian woman in Houston, regardless of where she attends church, knows about Pastor Benjy's elite eight.”
“What type of stuff does he teach them?” Janet asked.
“Everything, I heard. They have to be studious Bible students. They need to be able to teach, understand, and live the Word,” Joan said.
“They go on missionary trips abroad. They also teach and preach locally in churches, jails, and hospitals,” Tisha continued.

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