OK, so you're not Brad Pitt. But you find yourself in a lounge filled with Eurochix (or, American girls wanting to be Euro). You need to impress at least one, with the semblance that you are more than a Class of '82 Frat Social Chairman from some big university.
My pals have their joke-telling film, the Aristocrats
, out there and doing well, what with the telling of a filthy joke.
But sometimes, you need savoir faire instead of a dirty joke. Here's your weapon.
And ... fratboy, one more thing. Trust me on this: Practice the accents.
Get it right -it's all about nailing the 6 words, seemingly effortlessly. If you do, the Eurochicas are yours. If you mess it up, then ... hey, you get this round, I get the Eurochica.
It's a BummerRiginal, although I'm sure versions abound... .
*****St. Peter and the Butterfly
Following the downing of an airliner carrying a UN delegation, Heaven was already bursting at the seams. Only 5 places remained in Heaven for the 6 victims of the crash. One would be banished to Hell.
The 6 unfortunate UN diplomats at the Gates pled with St. Peter to be admitted, but it was just an ugly cacophony from the quarreling American, Frenchman, Italian, Spaniard, Portuguese and German diplomats.
Finally, St. Peter had heard enough of the ruckus, just as a beautiful colored moth fluttered by. St. Peter shouted, "Enough of this noise!" Admiring the moth, he said, "I will admit only those five souls who exhibit their cultural superiority
by the voicing of simple poetry about this most delicate creature of God."
So the American
went first. "Your holiness, that creature is known to us as the gentle 'Butterfly.
' " And as the words fell on St. Peter's ears, he smiled at the juxaposition of the soft nouns and hard consonants, weaving its sonic beauty.
followed, in a soft voice matched to the syllables he spoke: "Most holy Peter, the gentle flutter is that of the 'Borboleta'
to my people." And St. Peter seems to nod off in a five hundred year-old trance, as if he had visited the wharf of the great sailing ships on a spring day, nodding at the beauty of the image rendered by the language.
was next: "Mi papa, in Roma at the base of the Vatican ramparts, for centuries we have spoken of this most dainty creature as the 'Farfalla
.' " And St. Peter began softly humming some Verde opera as he closed his eyes to the joy his ears heard.
was next, in a breathy whisper: "Most Honored Father, in ze fields outside of Paris, for two thousand years the children of the parish have chased this little bird with lacy fabric nets worthy of his Holiness, this gentle creature we call ze 'Papillon
.' " St. Peter, now almost trance-like, smiled and nodded, "Oui, mon ami
spoke next, in a faint confession: "Father, I can offer only this: 'Mariposa.
' " And St. Peter, speechless, could only tremble at the beautiful sound.
"What, this damned Schmetterling
is sending me to Hell?" demanded the German