When Are You Going To Write Me A Sonnet, Then?

So, he came up to me and started reciting a poem.

What kind of poem was it? One he’d written himself? Or one he passed off as one he’s written?

I didn’t recognise it, but he didn’t specifically say that it was one he’d written. It sounded like an old-fashioned poem, I guess it wasn’t one he’d written himself. You seem surprised by this.

This never happened to me. But then again I’m male, so such things are rare. The kind of person who’d walk up to a stranger on the street and recite poetry at them is a very particular kind of man. It is always a man, of course. And the kind of woman who he’d walk up to is a very particular kind of woman.

Are you saying I’m a “particular” kind of woman?

Erm… yes, I guess I am. I mean it as a compliment,  by the way. Being such a particular kind of woman has its advantages, even if you do have to deal with strangers coming up to you reciting poetry.

It’s happened more than once.

Really? I am becoming more impressed. Oh by the way…

Yes?

If anyone comes up to you and starts off with that Shakespeare sonnet, you know the one about being compared to a summer’s day.

I know that one. That would be bit obvious to go for that one.

Yes, it has turned into a bit of a cliche. Someone probably will try at some point, someone with very little imagination. If they do what you must do is shout very clearly in their face “That was written for a boy! A fair youth in fact!” and then push them in the gutter and walk off.

Sound advice that.