The Real Megillah

The Real Megillah is defined by his almost preternatural ability to anticipate and parry my feints with equal parts aplomb and snarkiness. He is, by definition, one of the cleverest men in the kingdom.  This gift makes him a prince among princes.  I struggle to keep up with our fencing matches, and I am pleased to announce that this royal son wins more than half the battles. Not all, mind you, but enough to keep this queen's attention.  It is not often Our Royal Personage can be outflanked and outmaneuvered. Megs makes it look easy.  This, Dear Friends, makes Megs look exponentially more attractive to the queen.

The Megillah is a scoundrel of the first order, and he makes me laugh a lot.   He is witty, older, charming, and prolix, an accomplished email writer. I find myself looking forward to his messages and grow disappointed when there isn't one waiting for me in my mailbox. He is intelligent and accomplished, and the more I get to know him the more I get the feeling that he is a Renaissance Man.  That's a fine thing, indeed, if it is true, as the queen appreciates her cousins the Medicis. He is gruff, and quick to apply gentle correction and guidance. Yet upon further inspection, it seems that there is a softer, chewier center to the crispity, crunchity outside. He makes fast work of helping a damsel in distress, and he is sincere when he does so.  He may be a scoundrel, and of course like all scoundrels he cannot be trusted around the Royal Treasury. But at times, it seems, he is a gentleman. 

Megs broke through the first wall rather quickly, as I gave him my real email address early on. But he also broke through the second; I gave him my phone number.  Only The Other White Meat was bestowed that particular honor. But here is the stunner, folks. Are you sitting down?  When Megs called for the first time, he literally made my knees buckle and I had to sit down. That has never happened to me before. His voice is like butter.  I want him to read the phone book to me. The milk carton. The newspaper. The latest issue of JAVMA.  His voice is deep, marginally husky, and curls up slightly around the edges.  It is also trained; I picked up on that almost immediately.  He has good timbre, breath control, and deliciously proper diction. In other words, he's taken vocal lessons. When I heard him, it was a shock; most definitely not what I expected. In fact, I was thrown so much by how attractive I found his voice that I found myself giggly and tongue-tied.  Also so. not. me.  I thought I blew it for sure; figured he wouldn't call again as I was convinced I came off as a moron.  But he did. Later that evening, in fact. And we talked. And talked. Talked into the wee hours of the morning.  Thinking about that conversation while I type this entry makes me want to stop right now and call The Real Megillah. That's powerful mojo, indeed.  Stregare.

What is his flaw, then? My Secret Service tells me that The Real Megillah regularly visits other courts beyond Aes Sidhe. Therefore, The Royal We is cautious to disclose pertinent details about her kingdom around him for fear he is a saboteur. And she worries about getting close to this one: she thinks one day she may find herself liking him far more than he to her. 

"Like anyone would be I am flattered by your fascination with me . Like any hot-blooded woman I have simply wanted an object to crave. But you, you're not allowed! You're uninvited. An unfortunate slight. Must be strangely exciting to watch the stoic squirm; must be somewhat heartening to watch shepherd need shepherd. But you? You're not allowed; you're uninvited... an unfortunate slight" ~ Alanis Morrisette