What's in a Name?

In general, when writing here I prefer not to refer to people by their actual names (except one instance that made it to Google and an amusing case of mistaken gender from a confused stranger). There are a variety of reasons for this: I may affectionately refer to a young lady only to have that personage be subsequently, uh, “replaced” with resultant explaining to do; I don't want to bore everyone with trivial day-to-day stories - once you start mentioning your pets and the names of all your closest friends and family it’s hard to maintain an aura of “serious blogger”; and finally, I like to think of my body of work here as "above the common yet still relating to them" and it's tough to imagine yourself in the story if I've got other people's names cluttering up the discourse.

And quite frankly, the last time I mentioned my significant other, I soon had people trying to steal her. Why make it any easier for them by giving out names?

That being said, I have been dating said "other" for nigh fifteen months and we may have even dropped in at an open house a few weekends ago like a real-life <shudder> couple. It's looking surprisingly serious for someone who is such a big fan of rampant womanizing and little-to-no responsibility (that would be me, not her). Because of this potential merging of destinies, many of my excursions and happenings are inextricably linked to her as we feel each other out for mutual compatibility.

Thus I need a cute nickname for my excursion partner. Everyone else in the world of blogs seems to have one – “Aardvarkette”, “Mr. Demon”, “BF”, “Fiancee”…okay, most of them seem more titular, but still, I want my life to be filled with magical names that excite the senses and “Jennifer” or “Sarah” just doesn’t bring up images of heroic or legendary figures. Hold it! Jennifer, Sarah, put down your keyboards and keep your hands where I can see them. I’m not saying Jen and Sarah aren’t delightful appellations of quality, they’re just very popular and don’t fit in well with my tendency towards overly florid language and a bombastic tone.

Luckily, my need for a special moniker has recently encountered my need to be different. I tend to call the significant other roughly every day. This isn’t because I have to, but because I want to - it's a rare treasure to find someone willing to listen to every excruciating detail of the past 24 hours of my life. Earlier this week I regaled her with the fascinating travails of buying sliced meat (from the deli, or pre-packaged for 10¢ less?) and orange juice (it wasn't in the flyer so I didn't get a rain check!) and she managed to sound interested the entire time - even repeating portions back to me the following evening to prove she wasn’t faking it. Now that’s a fine woman!

And with such a fine woman, it feels wrong to open our daily conversations with the same “Hi, it’s me” that the peasants use. Therefore I’ve been attempting to spice it up a bit. I started with the typical endearments: “Hi Sweetie” and “Hello Cupcake”. I then moved on to more exotic baked goods ("Hi Croissant", “Good Morning my Cinnabon”) and experimented with some complimentary openings ("Hello Your Majesty") intermixed with a few that were a bit more imperious, along the lines of "Woman!", "Dude!" and "Boobs!". I’ve come to realize that when it comes to terms of endearment, I favour objects (there are a lot more of them to work with) but the un-stated understanding among most people is to go with baked goods or fruit - presumably because what sort of miscreant doesn't like baked goods and fruit? Put them together, and you have apple pie, the dish an entire nation is built on!

But we already know how I don't want to be like everyone else. Sure, I could have fun opening with "'Good Evening, my Sirloin”, or make it witty and multilingual with the slightly weird, "Hello Mon Pear", but I inevitably couldn't resist and would start mentioning fruitcake and cheesecake. I haven’t tried it, but I have a hunch that most women do not appreciate being called cheesecake.

So I went with furniture.

That's right, if you want to mix “attractive” and "well-built" with "sexily foreign" and "incredibly useful", few things answer the call as well as..."Armoire"

ar·moire (noun)
A large, often ornate cabinet or wardrobe.

I want to emphasize the “ornate” over the "large", but still, it's not a common term and it imbues one with a rich sense of history and European flair. Who wouldn't be envious of someone who is dating an Armoire?

Not to be outdone, my Armoire has now begun referring to me as "Ottoman". See how she immediately goes with the theme and reciprocates in a delightful manner? I told you this was no ordinary cabinet or wardrobe!

Granted, being referred to as a "cushioned footstool", even affectionately, doesn't really resonate with my innate sense of manly worth. So I instead go with the more popular "Turkish empire" interpretation of Ottoman. A grand and historic empire it was, ranging over much of Europe and the Middle East. Once again, I'm not as large (or old) as perhaps the word implies, but I'm certainly imperious and power-hungry. And I love to travel!

So for the foreseeable future, I’m going to use Armoire. I can only imagine the puzzlement of new readers attempting to work out why I’m so fond of a cabinet that, not only do I lug around everywhere, but I apparently also talk with like it’s a real person. I can only hope that they research the archives and find this very explanation before jumping to any conclusions.

What piece of classic furniture best represents your significant other?