Worth the Fall Read Online Free PDF Page A

get. I’d already planned to bring my entire business wardrobe to a consignment shop to help make another rent check happen.  
    Of course, designer clothes and toe-pinching shoes were a corner I didn’t mind cutting.  
    Now I just needed a rent to pay.  
    I picked at the small hole starting to fray along the edge of my t-shirt and reminded myself the last thing I needed right now was another guy. I was done being any-type-of-maintenance and was moving on to Independent Business Woman.
    Barista Girl caught my eye as I finished inspecting my can-this-shirt-be-saved inspection.
    “Maybe a little makeup too. You know. Just some mascara and gloss.”
    “Is my mocha done?” Really. Did she think this was the way to a big tip—annoy the patrons into paying her to leave them alone?
    I shook my change purse. It was probably too light to afford that blessing.
    “Not yet.” She glanced down at the empty to-go cup in her hand. “So, the theory. Guys. They rate themselves very high while knocking women down easily. So, let’s assume about eighty-five percent of the women fall into that average looks group. Some are rated higher, upper-average—like upper-middle class—and some are ranked lower on the scale. But they all fall into the middle of the bell curve.”
    I glanced at her hand, the one with my empty cup, waiting for her to finish so I could get back to work. I had a company to launch.
    “Anyway,” she continued, setting my still-empty cup down. “Guys don’t live on the same bell curve. When they see that ten percent of really gorgeous hot girls, seventy percent of guys think that girl is obtainable. That seventy percent is cutting into the equivalent AGQ—Average Girl Quotient—by quite a bit. Think about it. If a guy who ranks as a six thinks he can date a nine, who are the sixes going to date?”
    It frightened me that she was actually making sense.
    More than frightened. I glanced outside to see if there were any other signs of the apocalypse approaching.
    “So, all those upper-average guys think they rate an above-average girl.”
    “What about the other thirty percent of men?” What was I thinking? Where had the little voice that lived in my head gone? It should be shouting, Do not engage! Do not engage!  
    “Well the lowest portion—the below average men—realize where they stand. They’ve accepted they’re in the bottom fifteen percent and have found a girl at their attraction level. Think about it. You see a girl. You know you’re way prettier than she is, but she has a boyfriend. Usually we don’t stop and think, Yeah. But I wouldn’t date him. We just get stuck on the she has a boyfriend and I don’t thing.”
    Who sounded bitter now, Barista Girl?
    “That still leaves about fifteen percent of guys.” Why was I torturing myself like this?
    “Yup.” Barista Girl nodded her head. “You’re absolutely right. And most of them are taken. They were smart. They grabbed a great girl and they’re keeping her. The rest of them are just figuring it out. You better hope you get your act together and stay roughly an eight before you age out.”
    Age out?  
    I was twenty-six. What exactly was I aging out of?
    “Can I have my drink?”
    The snap in my voice must have finally been obvious because she made a face and started doing whatever it was they did behind the counter to create that mocha magic. I had better enjoy it now. With my new lack of income, these weren’t going to be in the necessities column where they used to reside.
    Once Theory Creating Barista Girl finished my frothy goodness, I grabbed a napkin and headed back to my desk—comfy chair and coffee table—in the corner.  
    “Don’t listen to her.” The voice was soft, kind of lifting on the end. It matched the girl in an odd sort of way. She had to be about my age, with light brown hair framing a glasses covered pixie face.
    “Sorry?”
    “Don’t listen to her. She’s wrong.” The girl glanced toward the counter