“Lucy, my little courgette.” Can I call you that? In Canadian English we say zucchini, but I’m showcasing my culturally sensitive side. Part of my campaign to win your affection. Besides, courgette sounds less like a vegetable and more like a long-legged show girl. But, I digress, my little Devonshire cream. What exactly is Devonshire cream? Does it have something to do with clotted cream, because I don’t know what that is either.”
“Do I look like Wiki-cream-ia?. Buddy you talk. A LOT. Can’t you see I’m busy here?”
“SShhhhh. I’ll be as quiet as a Church mouse. A Westminster Abby Church Mouse. The church AFTER the wedding. Don’t mind me, my little Tea Time G and T. You won’t even notice I’m here. Like Will and Kate’s bodyguards. I’ll protect you from the dangers of the wilderness. Did I mention that I am Canadian?” The strong silent type. Except that I talk a lot.”
“Perhaps I can defend you from a bear. Would that impress you, my little Double Decker Bus?” I have heard that you have a bus fetish. I’m all for public transportation. No car seats. Imagine that we encounter a rutting moose. Or buffalo. Even a cloud of rampant black flies. Fear not, my little Piccadilly Circus….. Oh my, there aren’t any clowns out here are there? I don’t mind wild beavers, but clowns scare the crap out of me.”
“Yago, we are twenty metres from the highway. If I had a wild clown issue I’d hail a cab. I suspect the only danger here is having my ear talked off. Quit following me!
“Did you hear that? She thinks I’m dangerous! That’s right up there with mysterious and sexy! Either the Spanish charm is working or the Canadian conversation is wearing her down.