“You’re smart, funny, and beautiful,” said the creepy middle-aged man, speaking into his headset loud enough that the quiet, half-asleep, Monday Morning streetcar crowd could hear his every word.
He said little else but announce each stop to whomever was at the other end of the phone call.
“We’re at Tecumseh.”
“Spadina … no, Spadina, not– … No, no one makes fun of the name Spadina. No, you’re a naughty girl. No. No. Nooooooooo … I’m going to …”
Fortunately, there were no children within earshot, or they would have been getting their first lesson in BDSM.
Silence, and a pretty, well-dressed girl gets on at University, talking on her cellphone as loudly as middle-aged perv, discussing how pathetic men are.
The woman on the other end probably asks, “Why do you love me?” or “Why are you with me?” I picture her in a ratty bathrobe covered in cat hair, intermittently petting Fluffy sprawled on her lap whilst taking long, practiced drags from a cigarette. Hair in curlers. Eyelids painted blue, heavy lines around her mouth.
“Well, because you’re smart, funny, and beautiful.”
Smart, funny, and beautiful. The three adjectives most often used when describing your special someone.
“Why did you fall for so-and-so?”
“Because he’s smart, funny, and …” Well, handsome in this case, but the two are interchangeable.
I try to avoid these ill-used cliches, telling my boyfriend I love him because he’s confident, caring, sweet, optimistic, silly, responsible … the list goes on. Not everyone is smart. I know this for a fact, because I’m a snob. Not everyone is funny. Some people are just lame and have no sense of humour whatsoever. As for beautiful … that’s debatable. Beauty is purely subjective.
But then, I suppose, so is intelligence and funniness.
Again I picture the woman on the other line, and wonder if she’s book smart or street smart, what her sense of humour is like, how he finds her beautiful in her curlers and bathrobe.
I wonder if he’s speaking to himself …