Page 42 of Flirtasaurus
“So. I was harsh this morning, partly because of mymistakenbelief that you stood me up, but mostly because your people killed my people, and that presentation made me feel a bit crazy.”
His head does one of those comic double takes as though he’s a cartoon character. But he seems genuinely shook.
“I’m sorry?”
“You should be.”
“Let me clarify. I didn’t mean ‘sorry’ like I was apologizing. I meant sorry more like ‘what the hell are you talking about?’”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t think that I do. Who are my people, and whom did they kill?”
“Nice use of the word whom.”
“I thank you.”
“But glorious grammar isn’t going to get you off the hook for this one.”
“Are you talking about the Jews and the Catholics? Because if that’s the case, I think we can make a strong argument that it was actuallyyourpeople who killedmypeople, so—”
“You’re Jewish?”
“Emphasis on the -ish.”
“Gotcha. But no, I’m not talking about the Jews and the Catholics. ”
“Then I literally have no idea what you’re—”
“Your asteroid friends killed my dinos!” I say with a bit too much force, I’m guessing. Yup, my buzz can now officially be promoted to drunk.
“Ohhhhhhhhhh. Okay. Yeah, I guess that’s… Wait. You’re mad at me for that?”
“Maybe.”
“Huh.”
He takes a moment to consider his response. And then he shocks the hell out of me.
“What else can I say to you then, other than… I am incredibly sorry, Calliope?”
“You’re what?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t think a guy has ever said that to me before.”
“What. That he’s sorry?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“It’s pretty… um. Well, it’s… it’s kind of. It’s really sexy behavior.”
“Oh. Well, in that case… let me take it a step further then. I, Ralph Anderson, take full and complete responsibility for the death of your dinos.”
“Shut up, dude,” I say, laughing.
