So I called JC up the other night, and I thought you guys might be interested in our conversation. It was very…interesting.
Ringgggg…..
JC: Hello?
Me: Hello. May I please speak to JC?
JC: This is him.
Me: Hi sweetie! How’s it hangin’ baby?
JC: Ummm…fine. I guess. Who’s this?
Me: Oh I’m sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. How silly of me! This is Isolde. Your beloved.
JC: My what?
Me: Do we have a bad connection? I said your beloved.
JC: Ok, who are you and how did you get my number?
Me: Oh Josh. Is it ok if I call you Josh?
JC: No.
Me: Good. Now as I was saying, this is your beloved. Your betrothed. Your intended. Your soulmate.
JC: Oh I get it. You took that e-crush quiz and got me, didn’t you?
Me: Why yes!
JC: How do you crazy women keep getting my number?
Me: I got you twice, can you believe that?
JC: You’re scaring me…
Me: I mean to be honest, I would have preferred the little elfin guy you work with, but apparently he and I are not meant to be unless it’s for a one-night stand. You on the other hand, are marriage material.
JC: I think I hear the door…
Me: Josh! Stop babbling and listen to me! Your skinny little ass better be paying attention!
JC: Hey! I don’t have to take this, you know! I’m rich and famous!
Me: Yes you do. It’s either be insulted on the phone or in person. Which will it be?
JC: You know where I live? Oh for crying out loud…fine. You were saying?
Me: Yes, before I was so rudely interrupted. Ahem! I have finally accepted that you and I are meant for each other. Whether I really like it or not. But, I have some ground rules that I’d like talk over with you first.
JC: Ground rules?
Me: Well yeah. You don’t expect me to just accept you for who you are, do you?
JC: I should never have answered the phone. Why did I?
Me: Are you listening?
JC: Yes baby. I’m taking notes.
Me: Ok. First thing’s first. No more curling your hair. Ever.
JC: What?!
Me: I’m going to give you a lot of leeway here. You can keep it long. I like it long. Easier to grab during hot sex. You can cut it short again. But you must never curl it. You look like Mike Brady. You look like a dweeb.
JC: But…but I thought I looked good…
Me: That’s your problem, baby. You think too much when you should just sit there and look pretty. Now, on to number two. You must get rid of that awful chin hair.
JC: I like my chin hair. It makes a statement!
Me: And that would be what, precious?
JC: That I’m hip and bohemian.
Me: No. It says that you’re a dork who has no taste.
JC: But…
Me: And speaking of taste…you are no longer allowed to dress yourself.
JC: There is nothing wrong with the way I dress.
Me: Sure, if you’re blind, high on crack and from the 60’s. But you’re none of those things, are you baby?
JC: I have never done drugs in my life. I don’t know how those needles got into my bathroom.
Me: Right. Anyway, back to the dressing issue. If you’re going to be my man, I simply cannot have people laughing about you behind your back. I have a reputation to uphold.
JC: People in the loony bin have reputations?
Me: Darling, don’t make me come over there.
JC: Fine. Are you done making me over yet?
Me: Just a couple more things.
JC: Oh goodie.
Me: From now on you are going to have to think before you speak Joshua. You babble way too much.
JC: I do NOT babble. I make statements. I have things to say. I have opinions about life and about things in life and the world around us and fine wine and fine wine in the world and art and life depicted in art...
Me: I’m sorry, were you saying something?
JC: I was saying that I don’t babble!
Me: Oh yeah. No more babbling. Got that?
JC: Whatever. Just…whatever…yeah. Are we done here?
Me: Couple more things.
JC: Shit.
Me: I don’t want you to ever say "cats" again unless you are referring to four-legged felines. Understand?
JC: Whatever you say, love of my life. Can I go now?
Me: And…and here’s the big one. You and I must share being the top in our relationship.
JC: Top? What do you mean top?
Me: You know darn well what I mean you kinky bastard.
JC: I am not kinky. Who have you been talking to?
Me: Joshua please. Don’t try to lie to your future wife. Women can tell these things about their men. I just wanted you to know that you are going to have to be the bottom at least 80% of the time. Maybe more.
JC: But I’m used to being the master! Ooops! I didn’t say that. You can’t prove that I said that.
Me: I’m sorry baby, but these are the rules. If you can abide by these then I believe you and I will have a lovely life together. What do you think?
JC: I think you’re a crazy, sad, pathetic woman who has no life.
Me: Ok, that may be true, but I can go for hours in bed, suck like a Hoover, and provide you with some grade A quality smack. AND I have some incriminating pictures of you and a certain blond bandmate that you thought had all been destroyed. So now what do you think?
JC: I’ve always wanted a small, intimate wedding…
Me: Me too! See, I knew we were meant for each other!