My Other Spouse

Hollaback is gathering all her minions under one roof this week for strategy meetings. Most of her minions are already in Connecticut but one has made the journey from San Francisco for the congregation. Dave is an affable and easy natured fellow. He's also young, single and fancy free so he wisely chose to stay in a hotel in New York for the duration of his visit and not in the local CT Doubletree Hotel. Since the meetings are taking place in Connecticut, he agreed to meet Hollaback and me at my parking garage in the morning for the daily commute to The Nutmeg State.

This morning I arrived at the garage at 7:30 am. Standing on the street outside the garage were Hollaback and Dave already engaged in animated conversation. As I tottered down the street, I saw Morning Ahmet look out of the upstairs window of the garage. He could see I was heading toward the awaiting duo. As I met them, Morning Ahmet gestured down from the window at Hollaback and said, "Is that your husband?" Now poor Hollaback is sometimes called sir (it could be because her hair is short and she's 6 feet tall) and sometimes she'll respond to this address by giving a make-no-mistake-I-am-a-woman-jutting-boob-thrust. Today however, she let it pass.

I didn't. "No," I responded to Morning Ahmet, "that's my wife."

Bless him, he didn't bat an eye.