You Dear Sweet Man Book Tour & Giveaway

The
subway ad is enticing. One might even consider it elegant as well. A
beautiful woman, sitting atop a desk in a sparsely decorated office,
staring directly at Bobby Fastow, a blue collar worker, on his way to
his monotonous yet physically exhausting job. The photograph has
an unusual charisma, a spectacular presence. It seemingly leaps
off and out of the poster. 

But,
in the world of advertising, nothing is as it seems. What if the line
that separates an advertisement from the real world were erased? What
if an image stepped from an ad and beckoned you to follow it back,
inviting you to melt into its world. Could you resist? Bobby Fastow
couldn’t, and his decision would turn his world upside down.

Amazon* B&N

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Dr. Neviaser is a
retired orthopaedic surgeon and author of many medical articles,
papers, presentations, and contributions to medical texts.  He’s
written extensively on shoulder conditions, his specialty. He isavailable as a speaker on most orthopaedic conditions.  His
dynamic presentations involve a great deal of audience participation
and personalized attention to attendees.

“Get Fit, Eat Fast Food!” read the poster above the subway window.
Bobby had noticed advertisements posted here many times before, but this ad seemed to leap
out of its metal frame and demand his attention. Bobby Fastow had ridden the subway to and
from work for most of his adult life. As a low-to-middle-income, unskilled factory worker with a
wife and two daughters, he had struggled from paycheck to paycheck. Sometimes, he felt there
was something unfair about it all. It didn’t matter if his knees ached, he had a terrible cold, he
felt down and out, or
there was a foot of snow on the ground. No circumstance seemed to warrant a day off because
every dollar earned was a dollar needed for survival.
So, Monday through Friday, he boarded the 6:04 a.m. subway, sat down in whatever seat was
available, nodded his head, and tried to catch as much shuteye as possible. “Shuteye” was
different from sleep. Bobby didn’t always nod off because he was tired, but closing his eyes
meant he could shut out and escape the real world around him and enter another level of
consciousness more of his choosing.
Today, he was going to close his eyes, but there, in front of him, was an advertisement
illustrating a most attractive woman, whose features were conjuring up feelings he’d had only
when younger. He let his overweight body slide forward in his seat, rested the back of his head
on the subway window behind him, and closed his eyes. He imagined this woman sitting across
from him in a bar.
She’s reaching across the table and taking my hand, bringing it to her lips, then lowering my
hand onto her thigh, and leaning slowly forward, puckering her lips.
The emotion from this fantasy was so inviting, almost real. Maybe too unbelievably real for
Bobby Fastow!
Just before her lips touched his, the subway swayed and jarred his eyes open. He knew from
experience that another stop was imminent. Suddenly anxious, Bobby checked the station sign
to be sure he hadn’t missed his stop. He was not sure how long he had been daydreaming.
Noticing he had a few stops remaining, he wiped his damp, shiny forehead, sighed with relief,
and straightened his bulbous body back upright in his seat. He had gone into this make-believe
world too deeply several times over the years and passed by his destination. It wasn’t the
embarrassment, hassle, or frustration of getting back to his exit that bothered him but the
prolonged ribbing he had to endure from his fellow employees for being late. This was what he
really dreaded. He had never
been late in his twenty-plus years of work.
“Get Fit, Eat Fast Food!” What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Bobby let his gaze drift from the headline to the photograph beneath it depicting a young,
strikingly slender woman in her late twenties. She was dressed in a black pantsuit and white
blouse with ruffles around her neck. He noticed her silky nylons but was surprised she had no
shoes on. She was sitting at the end of a long oak conference table with her legs crossed,
Indian-style, her right elbow placed on her knee, her forearm and hand supporting her chin. The
table was not unique and could have
been found in countless board rooms across the country. Bobby gazed at her face: beautiful,
soft, but with minimal makeup. She was looking at the other end of the table at a hamburger and
fries smothered in ketchup. Below the photo were dishes of salad, fruit, and broiled chicken, and
a
message that read:
Fit’n’Fast, Inc.
The Food You Crave Without the Guilt
We will select the finest ingredients with your tastes and health in mind.
We will make your dining choices easier by providing delicious and nutritious choices to suit all
tastes and budgets.
Today, Fit’n’Fast, Inc. is synonymous with the words healthy dining, quality food, and of course,
our fast, personal service. Our ability to deliver unique, quality foods in a time-sensitive, fast,
and casual
environment is unrivaled.
(Formerly BurgerBlast, Inc.)Bobby assumed the model ate the healthy selections rather than the traditional burger and fries.
That certainly seemed to be the obvious message the ad meant to convey; however, Bobby was
amazed that BurgerBlast, Inc., the fast-food takeout restaurant that had hawked greasy burgers,fries doused in sugar, and gaseous sodas for years had now become FitnFast, Inc., a health-
conscious corporation.

In spite of its new name, Bobby knew he would continue to refer to he restaurant as The Greasy
Spoon. He knew it well because he had eaten hundreds of meals at BurgerBlast, Inc., and now
it was copying other restaurants of its type and advertising the hell out of it. He also knew that
hundreds of gullible folks would go to the restaurant to stand in line and soon become captives
of the smell of their greasy burgers and fries and conveniently forget the healthy food.
It has to be a ploy to get them into the joint.
~ ~ ~
The forty-six-minute subway ride was over, and Bobby exited the subway, along with the hordes
of other nine-to-five working stiffs, to enter his private purgatory of work orders, printing presses,
and
drudgery. This was his world, where nothing changed from day to day and everyone watched
the clock until quitting time.
The memory of that young woman on the conference table with no shoes continued to stir his
imagination. As he exited the subway terminal and walked up the concrete steps to the street,
the heat of the day engulfed him.
It’s going to be a hot one today.
As he hustled across the street and into the Page Newspaper Company’s print shop, the image
of the ad and the woman to whom he had been so physically attracted just minutes ago
gradually
disappeared…—but not for long.

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