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Well, Well, Well, If It Isn't Every Woman I've Ever Slept With

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Well, Well, Well, If It Isn't Every Woman I've Ever Slept With

Well, now, what do we have here? I come home from work, and whom do I happen to find but every single woman I've ever made love to in my whole entire life. Just having ourselves a little get-together in my apartment, are we now? My, isn't this a pretty picture.

No, please, don't get up. All of you, sit down. Yes, those of you in the kitchen and back there in the hallway as well. Please. Sit, sit.

You know, it's funny running into you—the sum total of nearly three decades of sexual activity—like this. I hesitate to ask, but to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing all of you wonderful women again? I didn't even know the 24 of you were back in town.

Excuse me a second, Laura Simmons. I'm just going to reach behind you and hang up my jacket.

Say, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that Julia Hardy I spy over there? Why, yes, I believe it is. Come here often, my dear? I kid you, of course. We both know that you haven't been here since the early spring of 1996. My, how the days do fly by, don't they, Ms. Hardy? Yes, indeed, they certainly do.

Katie, Diane, Jessica, Michelle, Debra, Samantha. Hello.

I don't suppose I could interest the two dozen of you in an espresso, or perhaps a glass of chardonnay? As you wish. If any of you should change your minds, the wine glasses are in the armoire against the wall, right next to my 11th-grade French teacher, Ms. Abbott.

Bonsoir, madame.

Ah, so many familiar names and faces. What a truly unexpected and delightful treat it is to see all of you. Though the mere fact that Jennifer Schwartz is here likely means that I'll be getting fired tomorrow.

Pardon me, Sarah Vogel, but would you mind scooching over and making a little more room on the couch for Monica Klein? There now. Isn't that better, Monica? We wouldn't want your poor feet to get tired, now, would we? And look, you can be next to Sarah now. If I recall correctly, you two haven't seen each other since our fateful night together at the Red Roof Inn, Suite 201.

Speaking of the Red Roof Inn, hello there, Mrs. Hernandez. You can just leave my room service outside the door. I jest! Say hello to your two little boys for me, will you?

Do I detect a few members of the hand-job crew lingering over there behind the love seat? Welcome, Rose, Sue, Girl I Met at Rob's Party. Welcome, all. I have to admit, I am somewhat surprised to see the three of you, since what we did together was not technically "sex." Even if, according to Margo Rossovich, it was technically "cheating."

I only tease you, Margo. Glad you could make it. Ah, and I see your sister, Patricia, is here as well. Greetings, Patricia. Charmed, as always.

Why, even our old friend Rachel Weisbard has chosen to grace us with her presence. What a thoughtful gesture. I suppose it's the least she could do after breaking my heart and putting me through two years of therapy. And speak of the devil, if it isn't Dr. Barlow! You remember the Rachel we used to speak of, don't you, doctor? Rachel, allow me to introduce the esteemed and rather wild Dr. Barlow. Dr. Barlow, this is Rachel.

Now, you, miss, I do not recall sleeping with. Yes, you on the right, squeezed between Annabelle and Candy. You're sure we had sexual intercourse? What did you say your name was again? Sylvia Michaels? Oh, why, of course! The lady giving out free samples at Costco. How could I forget? Though you don't look nearly as much like Heather Graham as I remember telling all my friends. No matter. Thank you for coming.

My goodness, what happy memories you are all bringing back.

As much as I've been enjoying this little reunion, I'm afraid it's getting rather late. So if it's all the same to you ladies, I might just quietly slip out the way I came in. Thank you all for a most delightful evening. Why, I haven't had this much fun since Alicia Stewart and I visited Planned Parenthood together in the 11th grade. Remember, Alicia?

Sadly I must now be… Howard? Howard Studelmeyer, is that you? Good heavens, what—Oh, you're just here to pick up the mail. Very well.

By the way, before I leave: Beth Dolman, the tall redhead in the green dress, she's the one who gave me herpes. Okay, then, be sure to turn the lights off when you leave. Much appreciated. Adieu.

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