Tuesday, November 21, 2006

God Save Me, I'm the Queen

Husbands and wives tend to have pet names for one another. Sometimes it's dear, or darling, or, in my dad's case, he calls my mom Babe.

Hubby calls me queen.

In the house, at restaurants, and even once, in Target, when he was just being him -- bellowing "QUEEN!" down every aisle, just to see if he could embarrass me. OYE.

A lot of people might think that this has something to do with respect, but it really has nothing to do with that at all. It has to do with a gay guy in Florida, who had a wild crush on my husband, before we got married.

His name was Vince, or Emmanuelle, depending upon what nametag he wore at work. Hubby was a McDonald's manager, and Vince was one of the crew people. I knew that he had a crush on him, and just verified it when I went to pick up the then boyfriend from work. He was talking to the crew, and when he was done, he went back to the office to get something. Vince was the one who stared longingly at him as he walked away.

Yep, he was checkin' him out.

Vince once told him "baby, if you would just let me dress you up and do your hair, we could go out and you could be my queen." Hubby informed him thanks, but he already had his queen, and her name was not Vince. Or Emmanuel. I think it almost killed poor Vince.

Vince actually danced for him at our going away party. We had decided to move to Orlando, and his crew had a little get together for us. Vince was the one who danced to Prince's "Raspberry Beret", whilst stripping down to his red bikini underwear. We died laughing.

So yes, that's how I became the Queen. God save me, that's how our life goes.


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