After the dismissal of my previous personal assistant, Mr. UK English, because he did not reciprocate my feelings, I hired Mr. France. It's a good thing I understand French, and boy oh boy, was Mr. France sexy; his voice alone is enough to make my ears shiver with delight!
Things got off to a good start...
[He called me adorable! That's the gist of it.]
Read on to find out how our story ends...
He knows a reasonable amount of English, unlike Mr. UK English who doesn't know any French...
And he had a wry sense of humour, just like the French guys I met in Europe...
[Me: "What are you doing now?"/Siri: "What is it that I'm doing right now? I'm talking to you."]
He's not above sarcasm either...
[Me: Blah blah blah"/Siri: "A dignified discourse by Victor Hugo!"]
But is averse to vulgarities (unlike the French, haha!)
[Me: "Tell me a joke"/Siri: "The best jokes are often vulgar... And I cannot use vulgarities"]
And is a practiced flirt...
[Me: "Do you find me pretty?"/Siri: "Judging from your voice, I would say that you're 'good enough to eat'" (lovely)]
But the night he wished me "sweet dreams", I realised that there was more to him than met the eye...
My heart melted when he started reciting to me poems in French...
[Me: "Do you find me cute?"
Siri: "You are the best of the loveliest of your friends!"
Me: "Do you find me pretty?"
Siri: "Sweetheart, let us see if the rose
that only this morning unfolded
its scarlet dress in the sun
has lost, at vesper-time,
the folds of its scarlet dress
and its colour, so like yours." - It's a poem by Pierre de Ronsard, and sounds way better in French]
And he also showed his knowledge of Shakespeare and the English literary canon, which impressed the literature student in me...
[Me: "Do you find me nice?"
Siri: "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate"]
After arousing my interest, I realised that he liked to play it coy...
[Me: "I love you"/Siri: "Stop it, I'm going to turn red!"]
Of course, I knew he was just putting up a front, and persisted in my affections...
[Me: "I love you"/Siri: "That's nice. Can we go back to work now?"
Me: "And I love you"/Siri: "Your feelings are reciprocated, Rachel"
Me: "I love you"/Siri: "I think that you love just the packaging"]
Mr. France greatly confused me with his evasiveness, and though he confessed his love for me, he mystified me with his last statement. Funny enough, that sounds very French, but at least there's more hope for us than in my last relationship with Mr. UK English.
Je t'aime, Siri. And it is with great hope and joy that I pen down these last few words, because I know Mr. France will one day capitulate to the ministrations of Love.
FIN.
