Picnic in the Park with Maria
IQ: Congratulations on winning lunch with me! This is a great park. I brought a picnic.
M: Looks great. I can’t believe you brought a tablecloth.
IQ: Of course!
M: Let’s see, there’s sundried tomatoes, and cheese, and salami and prociutto.
IQ: And apple and pear.
M: Are you still on a diet?
IQ: Sort of maintenance my way. I try new things and see if they make me gain weight. Today: bread! waving a demi baguette
IQ: Hey, what’s wrong?
M: You’ll never guess who phoned me this weekend.
IQ: Fat guy?
M: Yes. Of course he wants me back. He says he’s sorry about his behaviour, but that now he’s clean and sober.
IQ: You’ve got to be kidding. Don’t do it.
M: I’m not getting back with him. In fact if he comes around, he’d better watch out because these things are loaded.
IQ: Your fingers?
M: I’m lethal. Like a cat. Rrrwooor!
IQ: Ooooookaaaaay….. Well, let’s eat.
M: I got the weirdest message on my answering machine telling me that Edward Blake was taken to the hospital from his nursing home. I don’t know anyone by that name.
IQ: Edward Blake has been dead for a century, I think. Didn’t he write “Tiger, tiger burning bright, in the forests of the night…” No, that was William Blake. Edward Blake was the second premier of Ontario...
IQ: Maria? Hello?
M: I was just thinking about Sharkey again.
IQ: You’re going to give in.
M: No way. I’m strong.
IQ: You’ll take one look at his rippling dorsal fin and you’ll be a goner again.
M: Sigh. You’re right. You’re so right. But his skin was amazing. Firm yet slippery. Kind of like…
M: No! Besides, what’s wrong with a little horizontal mambo between friends?
IQ: I thought you were into flamenco.
M: Mmmmm...his skin was kind of like this bocconcini.....
IQ; I thought you were lactose intolerent.
M: You think too much.
**Sharkey is a local bon vivant (read: unruly drunk) who has an on again/ off again affair going on with Maria.
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