Fun_People Archive
16 Aug
"How I met my wife" by Jack Winter (fwd)

Date: Tue, 16 Aug 94 18:12:31 PDT
To: Fun_People
Subject: "How I met my wife" by Jack Winter (fwd)

[If you have friends that like to play with words, at one time or another
you've undoubtedly discussed words that are their own opposites (cleave, fast),
words whose opposites mean the same thing (flammable/inflammable), and words
that appear to be opposites of nonexistent words (inept).  The next time
someone asks you at a party why no one ever admires their eptitude, you can
recite the following delightful story... -psl]

Forwarded-by: <>
Forwarded-by: Chris Nelder <>
<forwards dispensible>

	  "How I met my wife" by Jack Winter
	Published 25 July 1994 - The New Yorker

It had been a rough day, so when I walked into the party I was very chalant,
despite my efforts to appear gruntled and consolate.

I was furling my wieldy umbrella for the coat check when I saw her standing
alone in a corner.  She was a descript person, a woman in a state of total
array.  Her hair was kempt, her clothing shevelled, and she moved in a
gainly way.

I wanted desperately to meet her, but I knew I'd have to make bones about
it since I was travelling cognito.  Beknownst to me, the hostess, whom I
could see both hide and hair of, was very proper, so it would be skin off
my nose if anything bad happened.  And even though I had only swerving
loyalty to her, my manners couldn't be peccable.  Only toward and heard-of
behavior would do.

Fortunately, the embarrassment that my maculate appearance might cause was
evitable.  There \were two ways about it, but the chances that someone as
flappable as I would be ept enough to become persona grata or a sung hero
were slim.  I was, after all, something to sneeze at, someone you could
easily hold a candle to, someone who usually aroused bridled passion.

So I decided not to risk it.  But then, all at once, for some apparent
reason, she looked in my direction and smiled in a way that I could make
heads or tails of.

I was plussed.  It was concerting to see that she was communicado, and it
nerved me that she was interested in a pareil like me, sight seen.
Normally, I had a domitable spirit, but, being corrigible, I felt
capacitated--as if this were something I was great shakes at--and forgot
that I had succeeded in situations like this only a told number of times.
So, after a terminable delay, I acted with mitigated gall and made my way
through the ruly crowd with strong givings.

Nevertheless, since this was all new hat to me and I had no time to prepare
a promptu speech, I was petuous.  Wanting to make only called-for remarks,
I started talking about the hors d'oeuvres, trying to abuse her of the
notion that I was sipid, and perhaps even bunk a few myths about myself.

She respsonded well, and I was mayed that she considered me a savory
character who was up to some good.  She told me who she was.  "What a
perfect nomer," I said, advertently.  The conversation become more and more
choate, and we spoke at length to much avail.  But I was defatigable, so I
had to leave at a godly hour.  I asked if she wanted to come with me.  To
my delight, she was committal.  We left the party together and have been
together ever since.  I have given her my love, and she has requited it.

[=] © 1994 Peter Langston []