Come What May...

My pretty princess friend Jeem has been on here before, but now, my friends, it's time for a real story.  I love Jeem dearly, but that wasn't always the case.  We kind of started off a bit rocky actually.  One day, Melinda and I were sitting around, bored, watching Moulin Rouge and running our mouths, when Jeem busted in the door.

As soon as Jeem saw what we were watching, he immediately settled in on the couch, fully prepared to spend the next two hours with Ewan and Nicole.  Melinda and I kind of raised an eyebrow at him, amused that our muscle-bound "ooooh, I'm so intimidating" guy friend was so into Moulin Rouge, then went back to our conversation.  Someone should've warned us how deep Jeem's obsession with Moulin Rouge went.

I was annoyed.  I'd only known him for a short time, and there he was, all up in my living room, stealing the remote FROM MY HAND and screaming song lyrics to drown out our conversation.  Who did he think he was?!?  I glared at him for a moment, debating whether I should just leave him to be an ass or if I should call him on it.  Option B won. 

I knew Jeem was going to be difficult.  He had assumed his misguided superhero stance.  Yeah, when Jeem thoroughly believes there's zero possibility of his being wrong, he morphs.  He puffs out his chest, sets his feet apart, and clenches his jaw.  Kind of reminds me of a pissed off blowfish.  At this moment in time, Jeem was completely convinced that there was absolutely no chance in hell that I would ever dare to question his Moulin Rouge authority.  He genuinely believed that it was THAT obvious that there simply wasn't any talking during Moulin Rouge.  Ever.  Naturally, I decided to test him.

James was flabbergasted that I even had to ask such a stupid question.  He just stood there for a moment, stunned, fumbling for words. "Because...because..."

I still pride myself on keeping a straight face after such a response.  "James...uh...sometimes it just makes us act like fools, ya know?"  I'm really not sure what was the final straw for Jeem.  Maybe it was that we were still talking during Moulin Rouge.  Maybe it was that I had quoted the music montage to refute his point.  I don't know.  Whatever it was, Jeem did what any muscle-bound, "oooh, I'm so intimidating" grown man would do.  He threw an EPIC tantrum.

Jeem was all muscles, rage, frustration, and a sincere desire to sing.  We decided it'd be best to just go in the next room and leave him alone.  He was kind of scary in Satine mode.  He apologized about an hour and a half later.  Naturally, he had to finish the movie first.