An Imagined Conversation.

"Hello?"
"Hi, it's Imelda."
"Hello, Imelda. How are you?"
"I just called to tell you I won't be making the Dance Cruise on the 4th."
"Imelda! We've already advertised 2 SAMBA DANCERS! We need you and Clara!"
"I'm so sorry, something came up, and I cannot make it."
"Is it money? Is money the problem? We can pay you more!"
"No, it's not the money. The $40 would have helped with bills, though."
"Well, Imelda, please reconsider!"
"It's...it's complicated...I cannot work with Clara any more."
"Was it the 'sexy dance' comment she made during the Mardi Gras cruise?"
(silence)
"I'd rather not talk about it."
"She was kidding, Imelda! You do a very sexy dance! She was just drunk off too many caipirinhas. She loves and admires you."
"Truth comes out when you're drunk. She thinks she dances sexier than me."
(long pause)
"Well, sometimes she dances sexier..."
"You SEE? Even you know! And I'll admit it– I've had kind of a weight problem since Arby's came out with those new Fajita Flatbread Melts (they're delicious!). So it's probably best that I don't dance on the 4th."
"Oh, Imelda, I beg you! We need two dancers! Otherwise the cruise is so small potatoes, so bush league! Like that Chinese New Year cruise, and we only had two guys and an unhappy dog for the dragon!"

Exeunt