He stands just outside my door looking like a million bucks. An interesting choice of fabric.
"Please, call me Christian," he tells me, and confidently strides in uninvited.
He's wearing a baseball cap with an interesting logo stitched on the front. It's the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz leaving the little flirt from Kansas a message in the sky using the exhaust of her apparently fossil-fueled broom, but instead of Surrender Dorothy, she's sky-writing Surrender the Booty.
"I was just standing outside your door, thinking you might be in the mood for a booty call," Christian tells me with a dangerous look in his eye. The right one. No, the left. Oops, it was the right one after all. I know it's his right eye, because it's on the same side as my right eye. Or is that the left? Anyway...
"You bet I am, Christian," I say. "I am sooo in the mood for a booty call. Just tell me one thing."
"What's that, my darling?"
"What's a booty call?"
His jaw drops. I remember when I used to do that, my stepfather would tell me, "Close your mouth or a fly will go in," and to illustrate his point, he would throw a fly inside my mouth.
"You don't know what a booty is?" Christian asks me.
"I don't know what a call is. Is that like a cape?"
"That's a cowl, you know, like what Batman wears."
I wince, remembering Fluffy. I do hope that precious little kitty is okay squashed underneath that giant penny.
"Oh," I say, "I thought a cowl was a large two-handled water vessel carried on a pole."
"That's also a cowl."
"Then you must mean a caw."
"You know, the noise a crow makes."
"Silly Ana, that doesn't even have an l at the end of it."
"Oh, I get it now. A cal."
"No, cal refers to wolframite, the Cornish name."
"Wolframite? What's that?"
"It's a brownish or blackish mineral."
"Whew, you had me scared for a second. I thought wolframite was a tiny werewolf. Do you mean call, as in a grant, particularly one giving protection?"
"That's a cowle."
"Then you must mean a call. The membrane enclosing a fetus."
"No, that's a caul, which is also a kind of hair net women use on their hair."
"You mean it's not the part of the peritoneum that extends from the stomach to the large intestine?"
"That too, but it's also a wooden clamp used to hold veneers together until the glue has set. What I'm talking about is a call, defined by Webster's Dictionary as 'a call, you idiot.'"
"Oh, a call. I thought you were talking about a kall, with a k."
"That word's not even in the dictionary."
"Imagine that, I'm smarter than the dictionary. Well then, the only thing left is call, as in an elevated mountain pass between two higher summits."
"That's a col, not a call. What I'm talking about, my innocent one, is a booty call. When a gentleman calls upon a lady for some booty."
"Booty, as in pirate treasure?"
"Only if you're a Greek pirate. Otherwise I'm talking about booty, as specified in page three, column two, fifth paragraph in the small print of the contract I hope you've already signed."
"Um... I haven't signed it yet. I was going to have an attorney review it first before I sign it."
"Silly girl, you don't need an attorney. You've got ME. I'm not like other men, I wouldn't lie to you."
"Of course not. You don't think I became a billionaire by lying to people, do you?"
"And, by the way..."
"...call me Mr. Grey."
Fifty Shades of Parody