Mrs. Film Geek has a milestone birthday tomorrow. (By the way, since this blog thing started, my wife insists on being called "Mrs. Film Geek". Go figure.) Because I am known among my friends and family as Mr. Romance, I've been trying to plan something fun for her.
Besides cake, I mean. I got the cake covered...Really. I do. (Note to self...)
Anyway, in my desperate attempt to come up with something original I decided to call our friend Darcy (a pseudonym) and ask her advice. Darcy is a great friend, and lots of fun. She is prissy, yet bawdy. She can curse like a sailor given half the chance, and I often tease her about her language. The telephone call went like this (Please be advised, salty language ahead):
Darcy: [answering the phone] "Hello?"
Me: "Hey, it's [my name]. How ya doing? You sound a bit muffled, like you are outside. Enjoying the pool?"
Darcy: "No, just have my hands full, and trying to answer the phone. Carrying stuff in from the car."
Me. "Oh, I'm sorry. I bet you were cursing the whole time you were getting to the phone. I can hear you now: 'Goddamn it! Who is calling me while I'm carrying stuff in? Fuck them, goddamn bastards! Fuckers!"
Darcy: "No. I wasn't cursing. It just took me a little while to get to the phone is all. What's up?"
Me: "Sure you were cursing. I can just imagine it now. 'Fuck whoever is calling! Bastards! Leave me the hell alone, I'm busy!"
Darcy: "No...I wasn't cursing. Anyway, do you want me to have Darcy call you back?"
Me: [long pause] "This isn't Darcy? You sound like Darcy."
Darcy Stand-In: "No...This is her Mom."