There once was a time
when people were of a mind
to speak their minds,
and "a penny for your thoughts"
was thought to be a fair exchange.
But we're all playing it mighty close
to the vest these days,
and dealing with the truth
is no penny-ante proposition.
Now most of us aren't deaf
and most of us aren't dumb
but nonetheless half of us can't speak
and the other half can't hear...
so we've come to rely upon
what is known as the sign language of love.
Some of the signs are round
and some of them are square
but the most important ones to remember are:
STOP
PROCEED WITH CAUTION
DETOUR
and
SLIPPERY WHEN WET.
The trouble is that it's hard to tell
from a safe distance
which sign a person is displaying
at any particular time,
and even those who are well versed
in the other romance languages
can become dazed, confused,
tongue-tied, and disoriented when faced
with the daunting task of
translating the sign language of love.
The trick, of course, is not to think
about what's being said,
but what's behind what's being said.
If she says "See ya later"
does that mean later tonight,
later next week,
or later in another lifetime?
And if she says
"We should probably get together...sometime"
as she glides past you heading for the door,
should you hearken back to the Uncertainty Principle
which states that one cannot simultaneously
know the position and the path
of a moving object,
because you have a bead on her position
for the moment,
but can never be certain
of the path she will lead you down?
Do her eyes reveal the secrets of her soul,
or are they two black holes
sucking you into a time warp
where you will repeat the same mistakes you made yesterday?
Only your friendly neighborhood physicist would know.
So I bought this book on body language
that told me if a woman crosses her arms--
that's a negative sign...
but if she spreads her legs
THAT'S A POSITIVE ONE!
So I wrote that down.
Armed with this critical information
I felt confident enough to try my luck
in the world's most romantic city...
So I flew to Paris,
and found myself sitting at a sidewalk cafe
where I noticed a Frenchwoman
giving me the goo-goo eyes
from a nearby table...
She smiled at me
and I smiled back at her
and she smiled back at me
and I said now here's somebody
who is speaking my language!
Then she got up and walked
right over to my table...
and right past my table...
and sat down with the woman
who was directly behind me
and just a tad to the left.
So I think I'm just as dense
as I ever was
about the sign language of love,
but I do know that you can't dance
forever
and somewhere along the way
somebody has got to commit to something
before you're both committed...
so knock three times on the ceiling if you want me--
twice upside my head with your purse if you don't want to know.
I'll get the picture.
