8.19.2004

Surreal Shots I

"Guess what I am," she said playfully.

"A woman," he said.

"No..." she objected, "That isn't what I mean."

"A verbal artist," he offered. He pronounced it arteest.

"I mean..." she began.

"Always faithful." And he smiled.

"Oh, forget it," she said, and the world kept turning.

Then, for no apparent reason, he said:

"Somewhere around March 19th."

A moment of silence followed.

"Do you know how often people want me to guess their sign?" he asked. "And I hate the game. What it demands is outrageous and yet it seems to matter so much if I am wrong."

She stayed quiet.

"May I ask you something?" he inquired of her.

"Yes," she permitted.

"Would it really matter if I were right?" he asked.

To that she said nothing, and walked away.

3 Comments:

Blogger weng said...

wow!

12:56 AM  
Blogger Lasciate said...

:P

7:08 AM  
Blogger LisaPal said...

In 1993, I was on an Alitalia flight to Rome. The flight attendants wore brown leather gloves and the one that was serving (and I use that term very loosely) my cabin appeared to have been trained at the Ava Braun School of Hospitality. To recount the brutality of this flight attendant would take up too much time and space for here and now, but suffice it to say that the adversity of the situation was fodder for conversation with man in the seat adjacent to me. After a short time, I became overwhelmed with a familiarity in his demeanor and in many other things that were revealed about his personality.

I casually inquired of his date of birth. He laughed and said, "You tell me! You know my sign. I can tell!"

Completely self assured, I said, "You're a Scorpio."

He laughed and said, "November 9th."

I knew it. It must have been the similaries to my then-current-now-former husband, a November 14th Scorpio. There were many.

For a period of years, every man with whom there was some noticable chemistry was a Leo. I seem to move in cycles.

I don't understand it, but there must be something to it.

8:06 PM  

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