Again Tink replied, "You silly ass."
Peter could not understand why . . . .
Like forcing a square peg into a round hole, trying to blend the Taurus tranquility with the Sagittarian exuberance gives the Bull and the girl Archer the symbolic appearance of a ruptured Tinker Toy.
On the other hand (there's always a Libran trying to get into each chapter of this book to start an argument), on the other hand, it's not necessarily the greatest thing in the world to mate with a mirror image of yourself. It's more fun to team up with someone who has crooked ears to balance out your twelve toes - or someone who has a soft heart to compensate for your hard head -things like that. Mix and match, and make up for what you lack with what the other person has in excess, and wants to give away, if only he or she can find someone who needs it - and who will take it. It develops character. Or something.
We may need an example. The two of them are walking along the street,window shopping. That is, she's window shopping, he's counting to ten, making a determined effort to control his growing annoyance.
SAG: Oh, WOW! That really rips it! Look at that string bikini! I'm going in and open up a charge account, so I can buy it right away, and wear it to the beach tomorrow to look sexy.
THE BULL: Silence. Absolute, ominous silence. He can't decide what bugs him the most - her lack of maidenly modesty, her hollering slang right out on the street, that caused everyone to stare curiously at them, or her extravagance in insisting on buying things when she doesn't have the cash, and furthermore, has no idea when she will have it - which he suspects probably means that she'll try to borrow it from him when the bill from the store arrives, and she's still broke. (He's right. She will.) And so, for the moment - silence from the Bull.
(or ... to switch scenes)
SAG: Honey, let's get a St. Bernard to keep Lady Macbeth, our sheep dog,company, and name him Merlin. Wouldn't that be a scream?Or maybe we could change Lady Macbeth's name to Elizabeth, and name the St. Bernard Robert, after the Brownings. Do you think dogs understand poetry? I do. They certainly understand it better than you. You wouldn't know Solzhenitsyn from Sasquatch. Do you think they would mate?
THE BULL: Solzhenitsyn and Sasquatch?
SAG: No, stupid. The dogs. The sheep dog and the St. Bernard. How could a Russian poet mate with Sasquatch? You probably don't even know that Sasquatch is the name of Bigfoot... the one they keep tracking in the High Sierras. Of course (she muses, thoughtfully)they don't really know if Bigfoot is male or female, so I suppose they could, b u t . . . .
THE BULL: Bigfoot. That's you, baby. You're always sticking your big foot in your big mouth. I'm going to call you Sasquatch from now on.
SAG: Do you suppose the puppies would be retarded or something?
THE BULL: Solzhenitsyn's - or Sasquatch's?
SAG: Stop trying to be funny. Did I tell you I think our cat, Maybelle, is going to have a litter of kittens in a few weeks?
THE BULL: Listen, Sasquatch. I am not a dog breeder. I am also not a cat midwife.Once and for all, get this through your marble head. I do not enjoy having furry little creatures climbing all over me in bed when I'm trying to sleep. This place is beginning to resemble the ASPCA Annex.
(or... to switch again)
SAG: Why don't you want me to march in the ecology protest parade? We only have ten years left on this planet if somebody doesn't do something right away. Do you want to suffocate in ten years because there's no more oxygen left in the air, because the plankton that makes the oxygen, which grows in the ocean, is gone - because of pollution of the water, caused by greedy industrialists like you?
THE BULL: I am not a greedy industrialist. I own a small Orange Julius stand.And I don't care which Chinese Communist-inspired "cause" you march for on your own time, but I just got home from work, and I haven't been fed. I'm hungry. Stifle yourself, and feed me.
SAG: Say, do you think you own me? I'm not your slave. You act like you expect me to punch a time clock around here. Go out and get yourself some egg fu yung tonight. I'm not cooking.
THE BULL: YOU see? Now you're even pushing Oriental food. You're a sucker for Karl Marx.
SAG: Listen, if you're so jealous that you've decided to lie, and make up stories about me, don't pick a German Nazi name like that. Who said I was seen talking to this Marx guy anyway? The only man I've spoken to all week is the intern at the blood bank, who . . .
THE BULL: Shut up.
SAG: What did you say?
THE BULL: I said shut up.
SAG: Well, I don't have to take that. I'm leaving.
THE BULL: (yawning) Where are you going? Your mother won't take you in.You haven't written or called her in five years.
SAG: I have no intention of going home. That would be worse than living with you. I'm going to move in with my old boy friend, Kevin -that's where I'm going.
THE BULL: (no longer yawning, now alert and snorting) Over my dead body you
will.
SAG: It's okay. Don't get any nasty ideas, Lumpy. Kevin is married. His wife won't mind. I'll call them first.
THE BULL: (now furious) What do you want to bet his wife will mind? WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BET? Or maybe you're planning a menage a trois. IS THAT IT?
SAG: Stop shouting. Your face is red. I thought you didn't approve of gambling. Now you want to make a bet with me over some smutty suspicion you have. See how changeable you are? I thought Taurus men were supposed to be steady and dependable. That's the only reason I married you, because my astrologer told me you were steady and dependable. All astrologers ought to be arrested. What's a menage a trois? If you're going to insult me, at least insult me with slurs I can understand. You know I don't speak Russian.
THE BULL: I GIVE UP! I GIVE UP! Come on Sasquatch, I'll take you out to dinner, and maybe a play afterwards. It's our wedding anniversary,but I don't expect you to remember anything so trivial as that.
SAG: Oh, Buttercup, Sweetheart! Really? Can we see Man of La Mancha?And can I call Kevin and his wife, and see if they'd like to go with us?
It kind of goes like that, with variations. And don't let the mix-up over Karl Marx influence you. If she has a Ph.D. in political science, and speaks several languages - which many girl Archers do - she'll be even more indignant. Sagittarians are just as fiery and self-righteous when they're well informed as they are when they don't know what they're talking about. Since Sagittarius rules higher education, among other things, the chances are she will have a degree or two. Either way, she'll find tons of topical and tangled issues of the day to analyze with her cool logic and brutal honesty. Then she'll attempt to straighten them out with her Jupiter optimism. It makes breakfast with the morning newspaper a lively meal. Her scintillating discussions make up for burned toast and un-sectioned grapefruit (a degree in cooking she probably does not have).
Their political views will differ somewhat, to put it mildly. He thinks the Chicago Tribune is an underground newspaper and Barry Goldwater is a flaming liberal. She thinks John Lindsay is an uptight conservative who's a secret member of the John Birch Society because he was so stuffy about nudity in Central Park when he was Mayor of New York. But she voted for him anyway, because,after all, Lindsay is a Sag himself, so his intentions were probably good. As for the Bull's choice for Mayor of Manhattan, Ronald Reagan or William Buckley - she thinks they would make a worse mess of the job than Lindsay.
At this point, Taurus will shout, "The only possible way that anyone could make a worse mess of governing Manhattan than your friendly Archer John Lindsay did would be to formally declare war on the city!" But the stalemate isn't altogether hopeless. There's an outside chance they both might agree on Jerry Brown and the revival of the Saturday Evening Post - for different reasons,
of course.
The Sagittarian girl's ebullient spirits help her snap back from most misfortunes like a rubber band. She looks on the bright side of things, and her sunny disposition makes the Bull smile indulgently at the idealism and naivete behind it. But she doesn't recover as quickly from a broken heart as she does from smashed ambitions, a fractured dream, or a period of poverty. Unrequited love (meaning love she gives freely to a man who abuses her trust) gets her down, and sometimes keeps her there. But the gentle understanding of a patient Bull could heal her emotional scars and, at the same time, teach her that not all men are fickle phonies who break promises. It's not uncommon for these two to fall in love while he's playing Big Brother, and drying her tears over a broken affair.His dependability soothes her, and his steady faith in her calms her troubled soul. So she may decide this is the man she's been shooting for and missing since she first aimed her bow and arrow toward the stars and reached for an impossible dream. He may be. Then again, he may not. If the Sun and Moon in their mutual charts are friendly, they can build a relationship which, although it will certainly never be dull, might be snug and satisfying. With a negative Luminary vibration between their horoscopes, they'll need courage.
She is fond of argument. The Sagittarian girl enjoys crossing swords with a good antagonist. Because her swift flashes of logic give her a sharp insight, she's a skillful debater, and painfully honest. The trouble is, a Taurus man is not fond of argument and debate - or even of overly long friendly discussions. She may then invite packs of assorted friends over to camp out, hang around, and keep her wits sharpened. But that will only make things worse. The Bull does not like to see his castle cluttered with noisy strangers, and it will take a good deal of emotional elasticity to ease the tight tensions.
The subjects on the double bill of many of their comic-tragedies will be his stubbornness - and her extravagance. As for how long the quarrels last, it depends on her awareness of his Venus-ruled nature. She'll forget her own anger quickly. He can pout for days unless she knows the secret to his heart. With a Bull, one hard squeeze, and one gentle kiss, will tear down all his obstinate defenses.
That brings us to their sexual harmony. It could be an exciting meeting of Fire and Earth that gives them enough mutual pleasure to soften all their other differences. The initial physical attraction is strong. Her frank, wholesome approach to sex will incite the Bull to open up his heart to her, releasing emotions which may have been stifled within him for fear of rebuff. She'll respond naturally to his affectionate gestures, and his air of tender protectiveness. He makes her feel totally loved, not just passionately desired. Yet she may fulfill his physical-emotional needs more completely than he fulfills hers.
The Sagittarian woman often clings to her phantom lover, the one who promised to carry her off into the clouds in her adolescent fantasies - so there may be times when the Taurus man will vaguely sense that she isn't entirely consumed by abandoned passion during their intimacies. If he does, he should remain silent, and not start one of those Sagittarian arguments. She might zing out one of her truthful arrows at a crucial moment, and damage his Taurean masculinity permanently. The possibilities of this happening are too numerous and embarrassing to mention. Still, despite her daydreams or night dreams, or whatever, she's not likely to chase her phantom lover anywhere but in her restless mind. Not when she has a real live, warm, kind and cuddly Teddy Bear to take to bed with her. He'll replace the stuffed one she used to sleep with when she was lonely and lost, and despairing of ever being "really truly loved."
A Sagittarius woman is quick to reach out for love, if the hand she grabs and holds tightly also offers friendship. She's impulsive, excited by mental qualities - and loyal, once she becomes sincerely attached. So is he. But he won't eat egg fu yung in a restaurant forever. To the Bull, a woman's place is in the home, with strong emphasis on the kitchen and the bedroom. If that's where she's happiest, and willing to spend a reasonable amount of time with him, their contentment could be lasting. If she'd rather be out tumbling with the clowns, well - Lumpy and Sasquatch will just have to find some sort of compromise. Real love can always find one.
If she calls him Buttercup (but PLEASE, not in front of others) he'll call her Honey-cakes - if she tickles his oreille and scratches his head, he'll grow ecstatic,docile and sweetly manageable. And if he stops telling her to shut up,and tries a little harder to understand her honesty, to take a genuine interest in her opinions and excitement, she might blunt her arrows a little - and maybe even cook some egg fu yung for him herself... at home, where she belongs
