But getting a hold of the little guy wasn’t easy. With multiple bookings that take him around the world, Cupid’s schedule has been jam packed over the last couple of weeks. Luckily, he was able to meet up for a quick drink to answer a few questions for me. However, the Cupid who showed up wasn’t the same Cupid I was expecting. Reeking of whisky, with a stogie dangling from his lips and donning only a tattered pink sash, Cupid was not a child at all – but a disgruntled middle-aged man who looked like he had given up on himself. Sitting across from me, he slumped in his chair with his feet up on the table and uttered a grunt to signal that he was ready. The interview began:
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| Cupid was certainly not who I expected! |
Me: Hi Cupid. It’s, um, nice to meet you. I have to say, you aren’t exactly what I was expecting.
Cupid: Mortal *burp*, 'tis I, Eros, God of Love.
Me: Oh! That makes more sense. The P.R. woman I talked to must have been confused. I was supposed to be interviewing Cupid. Sorry to bother you, uh, Eros.
Cupid: Foolish mortal! Eros, Cupid, and I are one and the same! The Romans called me one thing and the Greeks the other. You know how that goes.
Me: Right, I guess so. Sorta like with P. Diddy/Puffy/whatever he calls himself these days, right? So just to make dead certain I'm talking to the right dude, you're the little flying naked guy who goes around and shoots people with arrows that make them fall in love with each other?
Cupid: Ha, mortal! Do I look little to you? I’ve aged over the years, but everyone is so obsessed with being young these days that I’m forever being depicted as a child. Still, my job remains the same. But shooting people with arrows is only part of what I do. Did you know I also have dominion over the dead in Hades, the creatures of the sea and the gods in Olympus?
Me: Sure, I read that on Wikipedia, but “dominion” really just means you fly around shooting arrows at them, doesn't it?
Cupid: Touché, mortal. But that's not all I do. Once I made love to Psyche, who jeopardized our relationship by mistaking me for a serpent beast who planned on devouring her.
Me: Oh yeah, how did that end up?
Cupid: Ah, mortal, the usual. My mother, Venus, commanded her to separate grains from a bag of rice as punishment, and then tried to trap her in the underworld for all eternity. In the end she got out and we made up.
Me: Wow. So you and your mom had kind of a creepy relationship. You didn't happen to shoot her with an arrow, did you?
Cupid: What exactly, mortal, are you implying?
Me: Uh, nothing. Let's just move on. So how exactly does this love arrow system work?
Cupid: It's magic, mortal.
Me: Well, yeah, but can you be more specific? Is it a mind-altering poison, or something scientific like pheromones, or are you just a metaphor for the unquantifiable concept of romantic attraction, which we humans attribute to being as flighty and random?
Cupid: Well, mortal, I can tell you this much - it ain't the third one.
Me: Okay. I don’t mean to be rude but can you please stop calling me “mortal?” I know you're an invincible god and I'm easily vanquished flesh and bones, but there's no need to rub it in all the time.
Cupid: Please accept my sincere apology… Mortal *snickers*
Me: Right. Okay. Let’s just move on… You’ve got an impressive body of work. Those arrows of yours must be pretty darn powerful. I mean, you once made not one, but two women actually fall in love with Hitler!
Cupid: I do alright.
Me: Don't be so modest. I could go on and on. You got Julia Roberts to marry Lyle Lovett! And you even found a wife for Michael Jackson – several times!
Cupid: Can’t no one do what I do.
Me: I'll say. Those had to be some tough marks.
Cupid: I'm not gonna lie, some of my match ups are so crazy that they took intensive attention. I'm talking, four, five arrows at a time just to ignite the flame of passion. Speaking of the flame of passion… did you need me to strike some love into your life? Maybe make those long Friday nights a little more exciting? *wink wink*
Me: Oh, no no. That’s quite alright. Thanks for the offer though… I think.
Cupid: It’s what I do.
Me: All right, well I think we’re done here. Thanks for taking some time out of your hectic schedule to sit down and talk.
Cupid: I needed a break from all the shooting anyway. My arms and wings were getting tired.
As Cupid slowly rose from his seat and staggered towards the bar to order one last shot of Jack Daniel’s before returning back to work, he lifted his glass and hollered, “happy Valentine’s Day” to everyone. So from Cupid and I, happy Valentine’s Day!
- Jennie
Hahah! Well this certainly explains my love life! A little drunken disgruntled middle aged winged man is firing randomly?? Greeeeeeeeeeeat....
ReplyDeleteSomehow I shouldn't be surprised...
It does explain, A LOT, right? Some of my past choices make more sense when I realize some drunken lil dude was just firing randomly :P
ReplyDelete- Jennie