Monday, April 26, 2010
Ah now, don't be tellin' me that kind of stuff!
I have one of those faces.
You probably guessed that anyway.
Without warning, people often pour out their deepest darkest secrets to me.
Even when they're not friends, merely strangers or acquaintances.
My canine companion Ansa, is just about engaged to another dog in the village called Bo-Diddly.
They absolutely adore each other. Bo loves Ansa with such a passion that often he flops down on his belly at her feet and just gazes at her with tears shining in his eyes. Really sweet.
Bo's human companion is Lily. Lily is married to Fred. Nice couple. Fred loves to dance at the village functions. I don't know them very well.
As Bo and Ansa play on the beach yesterday, Lily says to me, out of the blue:
“Home I go now, to 10-Second-Fred.”
I stifle a gasp. She can't be saying what I think she's saying.
“Cute nickname?' I offer, hesitantly.
“Oh I wouldn't say it to him,” she says, “It's more a private nickname. I've never told a soul!”.
Why now, dear Maude, and why me?
“Forty-one years of marriage to 10-Second-Fred,” she continues, sighing, “And do you know what he says before he starts?”
I raise my eyebrows, I call my dog, I gulp down a huge laughy hawk of a snort that rises in my throat.
“'Get ready for me, baby, the world's greatest lover!'”
I get down on my knees and offload my pent-up guffaws into Ansa's neck.
I'd like to suggest she tell Fred, in the nicest possible way, what she's just told me, or she buys him maybe the Kama Sutra or The Joy of Sex. But I can't. I'm afraid to open my mouth. So I nod, silently, straightfacedly, sympathetically.
And yes, I know it's sad. And awful. And lonesome.
But the next time I run into Fred, or dance with him, The World's Greatest Lover, what do you think I'll see?