"Surely you've seen a Beyoncé video," Christian tells me.
I nod my head, shamefully admitting to having watched one. Or two.
"Then you should know what a booty is, seeing as how Lady B seems to have an abundance of one. Or two."
I stand there. My mind a blank. My face blanker.
"A bum?" he offers.
"No," I say.
"Can? Duff? Fanny?" he proffers.
"No, no, and no."
"Yum-yum? Bon-bon? Toot-toot?" he proposes.
"Nix. Nyet. Nein."
"Pooper? Pooter? Patootie?" he suggests.
"Winkie? Wally? Whoopie Cushion?" he tenders.
"Whoopie Cushion?" I say, excited that I finally recognize something he said. "Isn't she on The View?"
"Surely you know what a gluteus maximus is?"
"You would think I would, but, sadly, I'm not into gladiator movies."
"How about that fuzzy little thing you sit on?" he says finally, exasperated.
"Oh! You mean my BUTT! Hmph! Well, why didn't you just say so?"
"Yes, your... butt. My, what a quaint colloquialism. You see, as it specifies in the contract, one of the things I would require you to do is take the hardest part of my body into your, um, butt."
"You want to put YOUR HEAD in MY BUTT?"
"I'm not talking about my head."
"Then what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about fifth base."
"You're talking about baseball?"
"No, I'm talking about a bit of buggery."
"No, I'm talking about going in through the out door."
"In Through The Out Door? OMG! I love Led Zeppelin. That's, like, my favorite album."
"I'm not talking about Led Zeppelin. I'm talking about driving to brown town..."
"That would sound racist, if I could distinguish between sounds."
"...and plowing the backfield."
"Do I look like a farmer to you?"
He pauses, and then tries again.
"Do you know anything about winning a gold medal in the Analympics?"
"I'm not into sports."
"That's where, instead of doing a 69, you do a 66."
"I was never good at math."
"Would you be good at docking the submarine?"
"Not really, I'm claustrophobic."
"So, you don't want to be George Michael's biggest fan?"
"Or Michael Jackson's newest friend?"
"Would you consider going through a Village People's initiation?"
"Maybe you'd like a backstage pass to an Elton John concert?"
"Who's Elton John?"
"Ana, my dear sweet Ana. You are an innocent after all. Who would have thought you'd be so naïve about anal sex?"
"Oh! You mean, making a baby the hard way!"
Hmph! Well, why didn't he just say so?
Fifty Shades of Parody