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The continuing adventures of dating a beautiful 20th century boomer, circa 1965, while living in the 21st century.
[Paul, sounding urgent] “I know it’s early, baby, but I needed to call you.”
[You, sounding like you’ve just woken from a sound sleep, because you have] “Oh, hi! What’s up, are you alright?”
“I’m fine, only, I know I’m waking you up, though--”
“No, it’s okay, Paul. I get it. Time differences and stuff. You can always call me.”
“Okay. Good. I’m sorry.”
“Aw, you’re so cute. But why are you sorry? [More awake, a little suspicious] What did you do?”
[Paul sputtering] “I…me? I didn’t do anything. It’s what you did, sweetheart.”
“Wha’d I do? I’ve been asleep for five hours! Alone! I’m innocent!”
“Baby, is it true… [long, anguished pause] … Is it true you put a picture up of me on something called the 'Tumbler', and said I looked like “a seriously harsh Daddy” you would never cross because he’s probably packing heat? Did you write that? About me?”
[Frowning. Puzzled.] “Um… thinking… I don’t think so. I mean, I did post a really great picture of you looking like a total badass, but--”
“Like a what?”
“A badass. Come on, babe, you know you can be! But I don’t think I said anything about you being ‘seriously harsh’ or ‘packing heat’. But maybe I did. I do think I called you ‘Daddy.’ I mighta said something about you having a ‘hidden grenade’, but that was probably just me bein’ filthy…”
“That I have a ‘hidden grenade’? What does that even mean? ‘Packing heat’… Is it supposed to be a double entendre?”
[Still bleary] “Well, duh. All of my ‘tendres are double when it comes to you, love.” [Smiling into phone] “I mean, you like that. You do let John get away with it.”
[Paul is sputtering for at least 30 seconds] “Let’s keep John out of it! So… you’re not denying you called me a ‘harsh Daddy.’”
[Mewling like a kitten] “Well, you are a little bit harsh, Daddy, wakin’ me up at this hour to tell me you’re not one, aren’t you? Is you mad at Baby?”
[More sputtering…] “Are you even speaking English right now? I can’t believe you posted something calling me ‘Daddy’. I’ve asked you to keep that private.”
“Aw, c’mon, now. You’re getting too upset, love. It’s not like I called you ‘Papi’. You know I’d never do that because you’d fan my ass for it. I know you hate it.”
“Baby… honey… look, I’m… I didn’t call you to flirt, so please stop that. I’m…”
“Am I getting’ to ya, Daddy?”
[Long deep sigh. Voice soft, but firm] “Please stop. I’m trying to be serious, here.”
[Long deep sigh. Voice soft, but serious] “I’ve really upset you, haven’t I? I’m sorry, then, love. Did I cross a line?”
“Well… yes. Private is private, you know? I wouldn’t dangle a picture of you in public and then gloat over you and suggest you would kill people with weapons you’ve hidden on your body. Although you probably would do that if you could.”
“Hey, now, that’s not nice! I only have one hidden weapon and I only use it on you…”
[Chuckles] “Yes, and you keep it at the ready for me, don’t you?”
[Whispering] “I do, but only to make you feel better, baby, never to hurt…”
“Mmm, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you at this hour to rant about a stupid picture. It’s alright, lovie. You forgive me?”
“Mmm. Sure, I do. For what, now?”
[Pauses a beat] “For doing that. Waking you up. About the picture? On the tumble thingy? The thing we just talked about? Did you forget to take your ADHD meds? Are you looking at a squirrel right now?”
“See, now, that’s what gets you called a ‘harsh daddy’, Daddy! And I never forget my meds. But you know, really this whole phone call was pointless because I took the post down after everyone told me it wasn’t your butt.”
[Silence. It sounds like he is blinking a lot and very fast]. “People told you what, now?”
[Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.] “Nothing.”
“That sounded like something. Did this post thing show my backside? Did you post my picture, call me a bad ass and then post a picture of my backside?”
“Umm. I mi--”
“Don’t say you ‘mighta’ because you know that word drives me crazy, especially when you’re being evasive. Did you?”
[Making a small whine] ‘Mmmm. Look, I was just trying to be cute, okay? Like, I’d said you looked like a badass, but then I posted a shot that was meant to show you actually have a very fine ass. A superb one, in fact. You know? It was just wordplay. John does it. You love it when John does it.”
“Oh. My. God. You didn’t do that. And I told you to leave John out of it.”
“Umm. Well. Hmph, not sure how we can leave John out of it, now…”
[You can hear his eyebrows go up] “Oh? Why is that?”
“Well, because the picture I posted of your butt… turns out it wasn’t your butt. Turns out I was waxing all philo-lustily over someone else’s butt.”
“No. Don’t tell me.”
“Yeah, I kinda did.”
“You posted a picture of John’s butt and said it was mine? And?”
“And I praised it. I didn’t say I wanted to bite it or anything, though. Deleted that stuff before I po--”
“BITE? You said you wanted to bite John’s butt?”
“No, no!, I never published that. And even if I had, I would have meant your butt, darlin’. I made a mistake and was really embarrassed when people pointed it out. So, then I took it all down.”
“And how long was this up?”
[Panic city! Oh my God, he’s going to break up with me!] “Really not long. Like... 40 minutes. Maybe an hour. Mighta been a little longer. Two hours, tops.”
[It sounds like he is hitting his forehead with the phone. Long pause] “Baby?”
“… Yeahhh?”
“What picture of John Lennon’s ass could you ever have confused with mine?”
“Well, his back was to the camera and the picture was a crop. I hadn’t ever seen the whole picture, but he was wearing dark pants and a dark sweater vest, and someone said it was you, so…”
“So, you can’t differentiate my ass from Johns? They’re very much different, honey. Our asses are very different.”
“I know, I know! You’re all thick and round and beautiful and hard, and he’s flatter.”
“I think I am disturbed that you even know that…”
“Aw, don’t be jelly, Daddy! I only have eyes for your butt. But in the picture, he was clenching, and…I got confused.”
“He was clenching? Criminy, what bleedin’ picture is this? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a photo of John clenching.”
“You were all flying. You were in those harnesses, flying around. When someone showed me the whole uncropped picture, it looked like some kind of rehearsal. And for once it turned out you were wearing the lighter trousers, which surprised me. Also, your face is not clear. And it was black and white, and John’s hair looked dark.”
“It sounds like you’re making a lot of excuses for not recognizing my butt…”
“Well, if you were here more, maybe I’d know it better, you know. But seriously, when I was posting it, I did kind of ask myself if that was really you, because the thighs looked a little too short and too thick to be yours, JP. [Sigh] I love your long, lean thighs. If you were here right now, I’d brush them for you. And then I’d bite them.”
“Stop that. You’re not going to flirt your way out of this. I can’t believe you did that. I’m not happy knowing you spent enough time considering John’s ass and thighs to recognize that they weren’t right, but still called them mine.”
“But… he was clenching, you know. Made him look much rounder and firmer than usual. I guess I was working too fast, and it fooled me.”
“Hang on, now, that’s like the third time you’ve said that. Can you send me the picture? Because I have never seen a shot of John clenching his ass.”
“Oh. Okay. If you want.” [You send picture] “I guess I’ve learned my lesson about using pics someone else has cropped…”
[Silence]
“Paul? You there?”
[Clears throat] “I’m here, baby.”
“Have the pic?”
“Aye, love. I’ve er… never seen this one, before.”
“You see how clenchy he is? A lot rounder than usual, right? See how I made the mistake?”
[Sounds distracted] “Um, yeah. Clenchy is not a word, by the way, wee one. But he’s clearly clenched. I see it. He looks really…very… clenched and muscular.”
“I know, right? But his thighs are all wrong--”
“They look all right and tight to me--”
“Sorry, what?”
“They look like John’s thighs to me. I mean, if you’d shown me this picture and asked me ‘who’s ass is that’? I’d have said, ‘that’s John Lennon’s ass and thighs, alright’.”
“Mmm, yeah, well. I guess you guys have lived so closely together that you’ve all had occasion to see each other’s asses and thighs and stuff pretty well. You did tell me Ritchie was--”
“Ahem! Don’t be naughty, love--”
[Giggle] “And I guess you’ve seen enough of each other clenching to know? I guess? Didn’t you all have orgies and stuff in Hamburg, and share prossies?”
“What? No! I’m not an orgy man. Never was.”
“But you did see each other having sex, right? Asses all clenchy and stuff? That’s how you recognized John, right?”
[Pause] “Sure, love, let’s go with that.”
“Anyway… I’m sorry I posted the wrong thing, and I’m sorry I embarrassed you about it. I really, really am. Can I go back to sleep now, baby?”
[Silence]
“Paul? You there?”
[Sounding was too bright] “Yes! Right here, love, just … just got distracted.”
[Teasing] “By John’s ass.”
“No, no. Actually, was just picturing what you’d look like in a harness like that.”
“Oh, you are a quick bastard. That was a brilliant save, Daddy mine.”
“What? I was, you know…”
“Yeah, yeah… can I go back to sleep now?”
[Sounding soft and sweet again] “Yes, go back to sleep, love. I’m sorry I woke you up over this.”
“It’s okay. You can always wake me up, sweetie. I’m always here for you.”
“Thank you, babe. And me for you.”
“And you really do have a much nicer ass than John, and you can tell him I said so.”
[Murmuring] “He’d probably agree, you know… “
“What?”
“What? What, what??”
“What did you just say? I don’t think I catched it?”
“Caught it, baby, caught it. Wasn’t important. Go back to sleep, hon.”
“Okay. Give my love to all the boys.”
“I will, goodnight, now.”
“And tell John not to clench so much, anymore.”
[Long pause] “What?”
“What? What, what?”
“Nothing, baby, I’ll… I’ll tell him.”
“Aw, I love you. Bye…”
“Bye, now. Bye.”
[He hangs up first. You go back to sleep smiling. Because you are so, so stupid, sometimes.]