Talk Nerdy to Me

Talk Nerdy to Me
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Vicki Lewis Thompson
C-/D+

If I were with the marketing department for this publisher I would probably be trying to sell this as a silly, sexy fun read. The author certainly nailed the silly aspect but falls short on the other two.

Charlie Shepherd, an electrical engineer, is driving to the Rack and Balls to play some pool when he is waylaid by an explosion in a closed garage. Rushing in to make sure the occupants of the house are OK Charlie is surprised to have his offer of aid soundly rebuffed (and himself denied any kind of entry) by the home owner, fashion model Eve Dupree. Charlie doesn't want to leave till he is sure she is OK but he reluctantly agrees to a compromise and agrees to meet her at the pool hall. If she shows and looks fine, he won't get 911 involved. Charlie knows that Eve is a fashion model turned mid-western small town gal and doesn't want to push his point and intrude on what little privacy she probably has. When she meets him at the pool hall, wallops him at a game, and then drops the bomb she is building a hovercraft in her garage and the explosion was her bio fuel going wrong Charlie knows he has found the girl for him. But has he? Can a small town boy and a beautiful, genius model really be right for each other?

I had trouble with Eve and Charlie from the get go. Charlie wasn't all that nerdy for starters -- just because you hold a degree in engineering doesn't qualify you for the status. And he actually sounded pretty hot from Eve's description of him. The fact that he had what sounded like a pretty active past sex life didn't add to the image either. While we are on the subject, I hate to break the news to Ms. Thompson but many people wear glasses because of poor vision and not liking the feel of contacts -- not just cause their nerds.

Eve was even more unrealistic -- a super model who shoots great pool, eats pizza and cinnamon rolls and is so smart she couldn't graduate high school cause it bored her/imposed too much structure on her.

I played along though, cringing through some lust thought and unbelievable dialogue until we got to the X-rated bakery. First, I frankly don't like the thought of calling my glazed donuts c_ck rings. Second, I don't want my cinnamon roll called a booby bun. That isn't sexy -- it brings to mind twelve year olds giggling over a copy of Playboy or something. Last but not least, I don't find middle aged bank presidents who go to Yale to watch the college girls walk around campus funny. Sorry but even if the women are over 18 that doesn't make standing in a corner just to watch co-eds walk about any less stalkerish or creepy. That and the unfortunate resolution to the mystery portion of the story earned this book a below average grade from me. I will probably give this author another shot -- I love nerds and hope I can find a good novel featuring one -- but this book sure wasn't it.

Tea: I didn't pull anything special out for this -- just a bag of Lipton Decaf and some cream.