846. Johnny Depp Wants to Marry Me

So there I was in line at the airport Starbucks when I noticed him. 

“That is not exactly, true, MOV.  It was the gas station.” 

Ahem!  Johnny, who is telling this story?  Like I was saying, I was ordering my triple latte and there was Johnny Depp in line directly behind me.  For a second I thought maybe I should let him go ahead of me in case he was in a hurry. 

“Who are you kidding, MOV?  If a bleeding nun wanted to go ahead of you, you would say no.” 

So anyway, there was Johnny Depp, in all of his Johnny Deppness splendor.  I smiled over at him, willing him to notice me.  I wanted to be subtle. 

“Gag!  That is not what happened at all.  Is your entire blog like this?  Made up?  You came up to me in the middle of me pumping gas and begged for an autograph.  For your daughter!” 

Okay, Johnny, first of all, get your facts straight.  I do not even have a daughter, so why would I do that?  All right.  Back to my story.  I smiled at Johnny, and he definitely noticed me back.  I was in my United Airlines uniform. 

“This was after you quit.  You were not in your uniform.  You were pumping gas and eating M&Ms straight from the package.  And when I said I had no paper to do the autograph, you said I could just sign your arm.”    

Johnny made his move.  He said to me, Are you working the flight to Paris? 

“Gah!  I would never say that.  Hello, I live with Vanessa, the mother of my children?” 

And then I said, No, and then he said—

“Bwahahahahahahahahaha!  That is, like, so unoriginal.”

Excuse me, who is telling this story?  Then he said, Such a pity, because I will be on that flight.  In first class. 

“MOV, that is all implied.  I always fly first class, I am Johnny Depp, Pirates of the Caribbean? Remember?  Alice in Wonderland?  Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?” 

Johnny, please stop interrupting.  So then Johnny turned to me and said, Maybe you could change your flight. 

“Are you smoking crack?!  It was the gas station!  Vanessa!  Your arm!”

And I said, I would love to switch flights, but I might be fired, and then Johnny said—

“Is this the part where you are going to say I asked you to marry me?” 

Marry me, lovely flight attendant—

“This is so far-fetched!!!  Who is your target audience, anyway?”

Run away with me to Paris, and we can drink fine wine and eat chocolate croissants all day—

“I would never say that.  I am on a no-carb diet.” 

So I said, Johnny, I would love to, and I already fell in love with you back in your Edward Scissorhands days, but alas, I cannot because—

“Let me get this straight:  now you are saying no to me??” 

Yes.

Maybe. 

Not really. 

MOV