By Lance Valentino
The chocolates did not work, nor the flowers. The wine I delivered to Lady Katrina’s door she threatened to crack open on my head. Some women do play hard to get.
It is the very ferocity of her rebukes, however, in which I read most clearly her secret attraction to me. Such proud women do not submit easily to men, which makes their submission all the more worthy, their love all the more passionate, their commitment all the more strong – as strong as steel fetters – when they finally lower their defenses. I must prove myself worthy of her loyalty. So be it. It is not for naught that males of the animal kingdom display their colors and fight for their mates.
This morning I searched for inside help. I first considered approaching Miss Talbot, for she seems knowledgeable of those of this fellowship. She has two offices, one at the Institute proper, and a smaller one located beneath the grand staircase at the mansion’s entrance. This one has a small waiting room where Sarah, her secretary, sits at a ponderous wood desk. Sarah appears quite diminutive behind it. When I entered, I saw her close a game of Spider Solitaire on the computer.She looked at me without saying a word.
“I’d like to see Miss Talbot.”
“Ms. Talbot. She’s out right now.”
“When will she return?”
Sarah searched the desk drawers until she found a daily planner. Flipping through it, muttering to herself, she said, “She’ll be back at 1:00 … no, sorry, that’s next week. She’ll be back at …” She scrutinized the page. “Later.”
“Let me ask you a question, Sarah. You’re a woman. Next week is Valentine’s Day. What should I get Katrina?”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “Katrina?” She laughed, a sort of unhinged laugh. “You’re mad.” She giggled uncontrollably and nearly fell off her chair.
“What do you mean? Explain yourself.”
She tried, several times, but resorted to typing it on her computer as she wiped tears from her eyes. She turned the flat screen to me.
She’ll slice you open, pull out your intestines, and hang you with them.
Then, having a thought, she printed something and handed it to me. It was some article about hating Valentine’s Day. I must say, I’m not too fond of Sarah now, the feminist. But I’m used to people laughing at me.
Just now, I reported Sarah’s Spider Solitaire incident to Miss Talbot. I’m beginning to think my action was rather mean-spirited. For that, I’m sorry. I’ll apologize later. But just writing about that infuriating woman is enough to make my blood boil.
I’m going to work out now.