Page 11 of Flirtasaurus
“Um, no. Tyrannosaurs and hadrosaurs didn’t fuck. That would be like… an alligator screwing an antelope, a wolf humping a squirrel, a lion boinking a chicken.”
“Holy judgment! Hashtag love is love, Calliope.”
“Anyway… there will be a big unveiling at the end of the month at the museum’s annual gala. Until then, we’re working our butts off to get the exhibit ready and creating all sorts of educational programming around it.”
“Killer! I’m so proud of you. Come here, girl. Clink me again.”
“Thanks, Sash.”
We clink and drink. I splash around in my beer bath for a moment.
“My beer bath doesn’t happen to be sponsored by Spencer’s Spirits, does it? Because I think I’d feel a bit weird if I was nearly naked in one of your dad’s concoctions.”
”No, girl. Our company is liquor, not beer.”
“Right, I knew that, sorry. Hey, I didn’t mean to bitch before. I’m psyched to be here. I don’t say it enough, but I love the shit out of you and I appreciate everything you do.“
“Aw. Ditto, boo.”
“You’re certainly the best damn thing that came out of my time at Our Lady of Sorrows, I’ll tell you that. Gosh, that’s some terrible marketing right there, isn’t it? How can you name an establishment, religious or otherwise, Our Lady of Sorrows and expect anyone to be happy there?”
“I guess blasphemous young ladies like us weren’t their target audience.”
“My poor mother nearly died of shame every time we were sent to the chapel to atone for our sins.”
“Poor Mama Sue! Could we help it, though, that we had inquisitive minds and craved actual discussion and discovery in theology class?”
“No. No, we could not. But Mama Sue has never really been up for healthy debate when it comes to her boy J.C., either. Do you remember the day when Sister Marta nunsplained that the entire universe, including humans and dinosaurs, was created a mere six thousand years ago and in the span of a week?”
“How could I forget?”
“That was the day I lost all respect.”
“That was also the day you lost your damn mind and delivered your ‘God Meant for You to Use Your Mind’ Manifesto over the loudspeaker when you were supposed to be making dismissal announcements.”
“I wrote that beauty during a single study hall that afternoon, and to this day, I still stand by it. The title needed some work, but the contents? Solid.”
“How is your secret writing project going?”
“Secret.”
“Come on, shady. You ever going to tell me what it is?”
“Uhhhhhhhhhhh…” I sing about an octave too high.
“Whatever, it’s fine. I’m not going to push you.”
“Thank you.”
“You know, I gave up on Sister Marta too, but it was the day she proclaimed that my past life as a sheepherder in Australia was preposterous and an assault on the faith. You know what I have faith in, Marta? My affinity for Aussie accents and my deep love of the bloomin’ onion! You and me, Lopey? We’ve always known what’s up!”
“Damn straight, we have! And don’t call me Lopey.”
“Alright, alright.”
We clink our glasses again and knock back some more brew. Surprisingly, I actually start to feel relaxed in my bubbly barrel. I take a moment to breathe in the scents wafting around me. “So what is this hop treatment supposed to do to me?”
“Beer baths are hardly a new concept. They date all the way back to ancient Egypt and China. They’re huge right now in Prague and Iceland. Portland too. You know how Portland can be. Oregon, not Maine, of course.”
