Every atom of my body, every cell... sated. I can't even begin to describe how deliciously delicious the whole experience finally was when I finally experienced it. He had me begging for more.
"More... more... more cheese on my chili cheese fries, please."
Since Christian was sound asleep, I decided to head out for a nosh. And a burger. Mostly, a burger. I ended up at a place called Frisco Burgers, where they advertise they make a good, old-fashion hamburger. It's on Yarborough Boulevard, and I immediately liked it because it had a quaint 50's feel to it.
"I'll have what they're having," I told the waiter when he brought me a menu.
"Who?" he asked.
Christian is always telling me not to limit myself, so I started here.
When I got back home, Christian was still snoring away. I took off all my clothes and started to crawl into bed with him, and that brings me back to the present.
Christian wakes up. He gives me that big billion-dollar morning-breath smile of his.
"Was I good, or what?" he asks, stretching his arms in contentment.
"Damn right, I was good!"
He does the fist-pump, gives himself a high-five, and says, "And that, my dear, is the snap, crackle, pop of that tune. If you had half as much fun as I did, Ana, then I had twice as much fun as you. You've opened yourself to me like a flower, and I want to water that flower, fertilized that flower, re-flower that flower so I can de-flower it all over again. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
"I'm a flower."
"Yes, you're a flower. And I, the gardener. Gardening his garden gardeningly. I once saw a sign that advertised free pillows, but when I went inside and requested one, I discovered they weren't free, after all. You had to purchase something in order to receive the pillow as a bonus. I argued with the salesman for an hour, but he refused to see things my way, so I bought the store and fired him. You see, Ana, I consider a promise to be a very sacred thing. Jesus' promise of salvation. Jerry Jones' promise that the Dallas Cowboys will make it to the Super Bowl. If you, like that salesman, break that promise to me, you will rue the day, I tell you. Rue the day!"
I smile and nod.
"I understand," I say, not understanding at all. My mind is a thousand miles away. At McDonald's. I wonder when they're bringing back the McRib.
"And on that note, my dear, this gardener must leave."
"Leave? So soon? Can't we do it? Again, I mean?"
"No, my sweet angel, I got mine. Besides, I don't want to overwhelm you with my superior love-making skills."
"Not even a little?"
"I'll call you," he says, and kisses me. "Hmm... you taste just like chili cheese fries. Is there no end to your surprises?"
I wave at him as he opens the door and walks into my closet.
"It's the other door." I tell him.
"I knew that," he tells me back and leaves.
How can I feel so good and so bad at the same time? On the one hand, my Frisco feast was delicious, but, on the other, I forgot to order dessert. Not to mention this Christian thing. How can he just wang-dang-doodle and go?
Too bad Kate's not here, she could talk to me about it. After all, she's got a lot of experience. A LOT of experience. She's told me proudly, on more than one occasion, that in high school her nickname was Corn Chip, because she was Frito Lay.
I once looked up the word "experience" in the dictionary and I saw a picture of Ron Jeremy. He was pointing to a picture of Kate with one hand and giving a thumbs-up sign with the other.
But Kate's not here.
Needing to fatten this book up, I decide to call my mother instead.
"Hello?" she answers.
"Hi, mom. It's Ana."
"Oh, hi, Ana. Listen, I'm so sorry I couldn't make it to your graduation. Did you get my card?"
"I sure did, mom," I say. "It was beautiful."
And it was a beautiful card, wishing me a great graduation in a foreign language. I don't know what Bar Mitzvah means, but I'm sure it means something educational. Inside, she wrote, "I am SO proud of you, Alice. Enjoy this card. I was going to enclose money, but wasn't able to, as I had already sealed the envelope."
"Is there something wrong, dear?" she asks with her usual motherly sixth sense.
I start to cry.
"Oh, mom, I'm glad you asked. I have so much to tell you..."
"Sorry to cut you off, dear, but I've got to go. The cable guy just got here. Hey, he looks just like Jim Carrey!"
"I've got to go."
"Well... if you have to go," I tell her, "I understand. I lov..."
"Bye!" she says chirpily, and hangs up.
I hang up the phone just as Kate walks in. I'm happy to see her, as this will give me more minutia to thicken this book up with.
"You certainly look well-fed," she says, giving me a suspicious eye. "Was Christian here?"
"He just left," I say, holding the eye in my hand. How long do I have to hang onto it, before I can throw it away without hurting her feelings?
With two fingers, Kate's holding her nose.
"Why does it smell like chili cheese fries in here?"
Fifty Shades of Funny