For the past few months there’s been a lot of gossip about Alex Rodriguez and Madonna. Did he have a part in the dissolution of their marriage? Is he moving to be closer to her on the Upper West Side? Is she really his “fucking soul mate, dude”? Physically it made sense — A-Rod’s penchant for muscular blondes is well-known, and Madonna’s lust for muscular Latin dudes is not undocumented (Carlos Leon, anyone?). But something’s been gnawing at us: What on earth do they talk about? Madonna may not be the best actress or director, but she’s smart as a whip and she notoriously doesn’t suffer fools gladly. A-Rod, on the other hand, is a giant orange-colored dildo with 553 home runs.
So, in order to try and fully understand, Daily Intel’s Chris and Jessica attempted the near impossible: channeling the two cultural icons. Below is a conversation between the two of them, as we imagine it.
[Late at night. Madonna and Alex are in the kitchen of her Upper West Side duplex. Neither of them seem quite sure what to do there — it’s been a long time since either has had to cook. Still, this room is far away from the children’s rooms, and they can finally talk in peace. Problem is, neither seems to know what to say.]
A-Rod: So, um, I’ve been meditating on the Sefirot about what to do in this situation.
Madonna: What “situation?” We don’t have a bleeding “situation.”
A-Rod: I just mean that you’re going through this thing with your divorce. And I just went through my divorce. And it’s like it’s doubly hard, because we’re soul mates. Because my soul is intertwined with yours, it’s like I have been through two divorces, and you have, too. So really it’s like we’ve been through four divorces altogether. So really it’s quadruply hard.
Madonna: I don’t know why you have to make such a big deal about it. It’s so dull. Everyone radically changes their identity every few years. That’s what people do.
A-Rod: That might just be you, Esther.
Madonna: Why do you keep calling me that, you arse?
A-Rod: Because that’s your Kabbalah name. I’m trying to take this stuff very seriously.
Madonna: Cor, you’re dim. You don’t need to talk about it all the time — you just need to be photographed going in and out of Kabbalah centers, and wearing tracksuits.
Madonna: So why’d you come over, anyway?
A-Rod: To be with you?
Madonna: [Swears under her breath.] Do you mean to fuck? If that’s what you mean, we might jolly get on with it.
A-Rod: Not necessarily to fuck. I mean, I love it when you talk dirty, mami, but I just wanted to be with you. We don’t have to have sex.
Madonna: Rubbish. What else would we do?
A-Rod: We could talk?
Madonna: [Very long pause. Walks to refrigerator, pulls a bottle of Stoli out of the freezer and takes a long pull from it. Puts it back, without offering A-Rod any. He watches in delight.] What would we talk about?
A-Rod: What are your hopes, what are your dreams?
Madonna: [Exasperated.] I’m MADONNA.
A-Rod: Well, what were you like when you were younger? Like when you lived in Miami?
Madonna: God, you always try to steer the conversation back to when I was a lesbian.
A-Rod: Fine. Let’s talk about something else. What about Guy Oseary?
Madonna: What about him?
A-Rod: Well, he’s my manager too now. But I’m tired of being bossed around by my own management. He made me look like a greedy asshole during the World Series last year. What’s the trick to getting him to behave?
Madonna: Pretending to be a lesbian.
A-Rod: Um, okay.
Madonna: Seriously, I could call Ingrid Caseres for you. It worked for me.
A-Rod: No, thanks.
Madonna: Britney Spears?
A-Rod: Is she still fat?
Madonna: Crikey, I don’t know. I suppose so. Everyone’s fat these days. Have you seen those Olsen twins? Plump as Christmas hams. That’s why I don’t eat or drink the water in America.
A-Rod: You have self-control. That’s one of the reasons I love you and you’re my fucking soul mate.
Madonna: [Brightens up.] I’m on a new diet of only fish oil!
A-Rod: I’ve been meaning to ask you, how do you get the muscles on your legs so defined that you actually have dents in your thighs?
Madonna: I leg-press 350.
A-Rod: Holy frijole.
[There’s another pause. Out of boredom, they commence with fantastic sex. Scene.]