I’ve never had a girlfriend, or partner. I think if I do I’ll use some sort of nickname for her. I’m not an overly formal guy. I’m not one who’d say, “Hello this is my friend, Margaret.”
“This is my partner, Margaret.”
“This is my fiancé, Margret.”
“This is my wife, Margaret.”
“Dearly beloved, we are here to mourn the passing of Margaret.”
I’d be Maggie straight away.
I couldn’t use a standard nickname though.
I’m not a “Babe,” kind of guy.
“I’ll just run it past the Ministry of War and Finance. He, he, he.”
No. I don’t want to be that kind of fuck wit.
“Savings account? More like spendings. He, he, he, he.”
No. I’ll come up with some name. Not Snook’ems.
I don’t know what. I haven’t meet her yet.
Mum said, “You’re never going to meet someone if you’re not going to call them by their name.”
I said, “I will at first. I just assume our relationship will evolve.”
She said, “Yeah, eventually you’ll put her off. Why don’t you just say ‘Hello Francis, nice to meet you, do you mind if I call you Francis?’”
I said, “I knew someone named Francis. We called him Franger.“
Mum said, “No-one should be called Franger. It sounds like I’m calling them Condom-head.”
Franger was okay with it. He meet a nice lady. She was named Dolorous. I can’t remember what nickname she had.
Anyway, they’re happily married and I never see them again. So that’s good for them. A happy ending.