No Sir, I am terribly sorry but I cannot talk to you, you do not look at all like the picture I glued in my Dreams Scrapbook.
Yes, that's what I said - my Dreams Scrapbook - I have it here, Sir. Well, of course, I carry it with me always. I mustn't forget my dreams, you see - or I might end up lonely or poor or live in an ugly house, with a horrid husband. ... Yes, it is very pretty - I was very fond of unicorns when I made this scrapbook. My big sister gave me those stickers for my 11th birthday, and I made this scrapbook the very next day. ... Well, yes. I suppose it is a bit battered, but I have had this scrapbook for a very long time. No you can't look at it! It's secret! See - there on the cover - it says "My Secrete Book". ... What? Well I... I don't know why I added an extra 'E' on 'secret'. I suppose I thought it was spelled that way. Please go away. I don't want to talk to you anymore, Sir.
I have already told you why. Silly boy, you know quite well why! You are NOT in my Scrapbook!
Of course it's importance - it is a matter of great consequence! ... because, Sir, if today we converse and tomorrow I am fond of you and the following day we kiss and the next day we dance in the rain and finally we are married, then my dream scrapbook isn't going to be worth very much is it? I will have wasted that whole afternoon! And all those pretty stickers! Yes, it's going to look pretty silly - isn't it? So, I'm not talking to you anymore.
What's in my scrapbook you ask? Fine! Look, here! See? There's the picture - he doesn't look a thing like you - does he? He's quite handsome, and... oh no, I haven't got a clue who he is. I found him in a magazine. Yes, his hair is a bit 80's... What? You can't say that about him! He's my future husband! See, I wrote underneath - 'husbund - Chris'. No, I can't remember why his name was Chris - it's not important. It's just so that I remember he has to have a nice, normal name. Well, it's not your name is it? Hah! I knew it - your name isn't Chris - it's not even normal sounding at all. Besides, you're so grubby and your clothes are old and you look like you haven't got any money at all... do you? No, I didn't think so - how on earth do you expect to be able to afford our big house? See - there's the picture of our big house... yes, it is very grand indeed. Yes, I chose that picture myself - it's in the country though, it that picture. In real life we shall live by the seaside.
What? Oh, that picture - that's me! See - 'Wife - Me!'. Yes, I spelled that correctly. I know, I know - I was a very clever 11 year old. Why is am blonde in this picture? Well, it's not really me - it's what I'm supposed to look like when I get married. See, she's got such lovely blonde hair, and blue eyes and perfect skin and she looks so young and happy. Well no, I do not look like that now. Thank you for pointing that out, Sir. But I'm not married yet, so I couldn't possibly look like that - see it says 'Wife'. So there. I'll be rich and I'll get contact lenses and a nice hairdresser who I can talk to about my wonderful children. See, there's the pictures of them - my future children. I have two of course, a boy and a girl. The boy will be older so he can protect his little sister at school. I don't care if you have a little sister Sir, I'm not talking to you. I shan't ever meet her shall I - you and I are not friends, and we are most certainly not married.
See, there! There's another reason I simply cannot speak to you. Our children wouldn't be pretty at all! I have to fall in love with the man in the picture in my Scrapbook - he is tall, and devilishly handsome, with blue eyes. And look! Our Scrapbook children are tall with my dark hair and his beautiful blue eyes. Your eyes are brown Sir. Brown is such an awfully common colour. Yes, I know my eyes are brown - but we've been through this - I need to marry a blue eyed gentleman, so that our children may have beautiful blue eyes.
No, I can't make exceptions. This is the way it must be. Yes, I'm sure you're a very nice person, you seem like a very nice person. Yes, it was my sticky 11 year old fingers that found those pictures and glued them down, and there's a smidgen of chocolate cake stuck to his face, but I knew exactly what I wanted. No Sir, you are not in my scrapbook.