Page 28 of A Very Friendly Valentine's Day

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“I’m on vacation—I’m not some dancing Shakespearean monkey.”

“Just do it. Do a shorter one, just do it!”

“I’m enjoying a beverage—get outta here.”

“Oh my God. Fine! Never mind.” She frowns, crossing her arms in front of her chest and looking out the window. “You blew it, Cannavale.”

“Story of my life. Learning to live with it.” I take one more gulp of wine and then a sip of water.

“Hey…” I wait for her to turn her pouty face my way again before continuing.

“What lady is that, which doth

enrich the hand

Of yonder knight?”

I stand up so I can project and pace around. Because moving trains are really fucking loud, and Romeo is an energetic young fucker who can’t stay still. I take a few steps away and play it like I’m watching Birdie from afar. The way I did back in college. But not creepy.

Get ready to swoon, little Bird.

“O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear;

Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!

So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,

As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.

The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,

And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.

Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!

For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.”

She has never looked at me like that before—with such blatant admiration. And she’s blushing. And radiant. And I’ve got an audience of about twenty people now. And it feels good. Fuck it—I’m going all in.

“But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou her maid art far more fair than she:

Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green

And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.

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