This is an Alexander Pope sitting post
Stephanie: We had to write an essay about why we loved a certain critic of poetry from the Victorian era. I really, really, really wanted to write an anachronistic essay about loving Pope. I’d say how I called him “Poppy” and sometimes “Big Poppy.”
Me: I call him Po’ myself. He goes by A-Po on the streets.
Stephanie: Yeah, but you dated him longer than I did.
Me: I came on too strong. My love for him burned too bright and he got freaked out.
Stephanie: That’s just because he was too into himself, and having someone love him, he felt, took away all of his artistic ability. That guy was an asshole… but a good kisser.
Me: Not quite as good as Rousseau, but good. Definitely better than Voltaire.
Stephanie: I didn’t date Rousseau. He was into factory workers, and I looked a little too much like Liz Stanton for his liking.
Me: That bastard. He was always into that child labor look
Stephanie: Yeah, like how some guys are into Asians. I was too well-fed for him.
Me: Well, you didn’t hear this from me, but he had etchings of underage girls.
Stephanie: Oh, shit. Is that why he wouldn’t let me look inside his humidor in the foyer? I knew he probably had more than just cigars in there.
Me: Oh, yeah. I mean, I was ok with the drawings of women’s ankles. Guys will be guys, ya know?
Stephanie: No, I’m sorry. Ankles? That’s disgusting. Have some dignity.
Me: I know right? Those whores. My ankles are only for me and my guy in the privacy of our boudoir.
Stephanie: I don’t understand the kind of person who can walk around with her ankles showing, much less have etchings done of it. I don’t show anyone my ankles. One is bigger than the other. It bothers me. I know no one else can probably tell, but, I notice. One is definitely better than the other.
Me: Well, you have to show your guy your ankles sometimes. They have needs. Do you show them your elbow at least?
Stephanie: Sometimes, if we are alone together in the garden or something. I mean, I’ll go to first base (being seen together during the day) but, to go to third base and show a man my elbow. That takes me a while, to open up like that.
(You can see the same conversation here, amongst many other funny things.)
