Who is Linda?

The most fun I had in writing “The ReWrite” was to design the perfect woman for the protagonist, Greg McMann, a guy based on me, but living in a parallel universe where his life becomes a fantastic success.

This woman is so fantastic. She’s loosely based on all the good attributes of the various Lindas, Annettes, Suzies and such that I’ve had relationships with in my life. But, of course, she’s better than all of them. Here’s a short excerpt from the novel, depicting the moment I meet her:

She was sitting under a tree on the west mall, playing the guitar. I had just hidden behind a nearby tree to handle a tent pole problem and was hyperventilating a bit.  She glanced over at me and smiled as if she knew what I was going through, which caused me to turn beet red, but she just continued playing and singing.  Her hair was long, light brown, parted in the middle, pulled back away from her lightly freckled face and kept in place with naturally braided tendrils that were laced with little yellow flowers.  She was wearing a wispy, white blouse with embroidery around the neckline and tattered cutoff jeans. Her eyes were a color of green I’d never seen, and they mesmerized me and reached into my very soul.

She was singing:

When the moon is in the seventh house
And Jupiter aligns with Mars,
Then Peace will guide the planets,
This is the dawning of the age of Aquarius,
Age of Aquarius,
Aquarius! Aquarius!”
(by the 5th Dimension)

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I wanted to listen to her for the rest of time.  The voice thing I told you about earlier?   It was my secret weapon, and my goal was to immediately win her heart.

I walked over and asked if I could borrow her guitar. 

I sang:

The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes.
And the moon and stars were the gifts you gave.
To the dark and endless sky, my love.

(by Roberta Flack)

We sat under the tree and played songs for each other until a crescent moon began to rise in the evening sky.  From that day on, we were never apart.

This was my first (and last) Linda.  Linda Featherly. 

The morning after Linda and I first made love, I woke up and she wasn’t there. My first thought was that the whole day with her had only been a dream. This thought actually made me want to die, right then and there.  I screamed “Aaaaarrrghhh!”

Then I heard sounds coming from the other room. Punching sounds, like Rap. Bam. Bink.



Wap wap wap. 

It sounded like there was a fight going on. Oh, my GOD, was somebody was in there beating up on Linda?

I ran over and jumped through the door, and nekkid as a jaybird but ready for a fight!

Linda was in there dressed in some sort of a white outfit with a black sash, kicking the shit out of this canvas bag hanging from a rafter.

I had never seen a girl do anything remotely similar to this. Sure, I’d heard of Bruce Lee and Kung Fu and stuff, but I thought that was sort of like Saturday Night wrestling with a bunch of actors just doing stunts.

But there she was, leaping through the air, defying gravity, landing a double kick to that poor defenseless bag, and then reaching around with her fists to its, well, where it’s balls would be if it was a guy, then landing an elbow whack to the head,  just for good measure.  She landed, in a crouch, her lips were drawn back, hissing like a black panther. 

Then she saw me in the doorway, holding a pink plastic coat hanger, menacingly.  In my haste to defend her, it was the only thing I could find to use as a weapon.

She giggled.

“Where are your pants?” she said, then began rolling on the floor laughing, pointing at me.

I looked down at my crotch.  My little ol’ wiener was at full attention.

Linda immediately jumped up and ran at me, and I just stood there, ready for whatever was about to happen. Another person in my place might have thought they were about to get beaten to death, but that just had to be impossible. She tackled me and lowered me to the floor as gently as a baby being placed in a crib and gave me a big juicy kiss right on the face.

“That’s ok,” she said.  “You’re not gonna need ‘em.”

Linda was breathing pretty hard from her work out and ready for round of hanky-lanky-stanky-panky if you know what I mean.

So was I, but I had one burning question.

“What were you doing in there, Linda?”

“Aw, you know, just my morning workout.”

“What kind of work out?”

“Tae Keon Do. Black Belt.”

Kiss, kiss, smooch.  “5th degree.”

“So, I guess I shouldn’t piss you off, right?”

 “Probably not. Are you scared?”


Then we did some things right there on the floor that I’ll skip by because I’m a gentleman.

So, there I was, freshman stupid, with this gorgeous, sexy girl, who sang like an angelic version of Janice Joplin. And, oh yeah, she had these martial arts superpowers which enabled her to kick the shit out of me or anybody else at any moment. And I think she sort of liked me! Could life get any better?

Well, the answer to that is YES.

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