Compose Yourself

(My boyfriend and I are classical music geeks. He has been waiting for me at the train station, while I use the bathroom.)

Me: “Hey, I’m Bach!”

Boyfriend: “What took you so long? Were you Haydn or something?”

Me: “Nope. That was a nice restroom, though it could’ve been an art gallery. It had the Mozart I’ve ever seen!”

(We get on the train.)

Me: “So, when we get there, we have to go Chopin.”

Boyfriend: “Did you remember the Liszt?”

Me: “Yes, I did. We need to get groceries for next Wieck.”

Boyfriend: “I did make root vegetables. Right before we left I put the Beet(in)hoven.”

Me: “You seem as confused as I am. I’m even not sure when our stop is. I am having treble reading this map.”

Boyfriend: “We should have taken the Ludwig van.”

Me: “Yes, we should have. So, how’s life?”

Boyfriend: “Godunov. Yours?”

Me: “I’ve been under a lot of Strauss lately.”

Boyfriend: “Oh?”

Me: “Yeah, at [school I teach at], it’s hard to be one of the staff.”

Boyfriend: “We should probably stop Messiahing around.”

Me: “Vivaldi puns, we’re going to knock someone over.”

Boyfriend: “I guess we just can’t Handel the puns.”

Me: “By the time we get off the train, we’ll have Baroquen something!”

(We get off the train, and I turn around to watch it go.)

Me: “Oh, my God! Look!”

(There is an ad on the side of the train. It reads ‘classical music radio station is Bach!’.)

Boyfriend: “No way! It’s right next to where we were standing!”

Me: “It must have been Rubinoff on us!”