TMI

Earlier this century – don’t ask me what year because I don’t know offhand and would have to look it up – Robert and I took one of our regular trips to Las Vegas. (Check the archives. We go often and there are good stories. Put “Vegas” in the search box.) This particular trip included @rpaulwilson, star of the British TV show “The Real Hustle” and a dear friend.

We drove home on Robert’s birthday and made two detours before leaving Vegas. Paul wanted to go to the Gambler’s General Store, and we had to stop at a chapel. Paul didn’t know that on the first day of the trip we’d snuck over to the registrar and bought a marriage license. You see, after more than a dozen birthdays and Christmases, I ran out of gift ideas. So for Robert’s birthday that year, I married him. The look on Paul’s face when I parked the car was better than any prank ever.

We only told two people.

There was no reason to talk about it. My name didn’t change, nor did we need another toaster or stick blender. After a few years, on another of his birthdays, we got rings. People became aware. By then it wasn’t a secret, just not a topic of conversation. Well, not until Robert checked the box “married” on Facebook, but that tempest never left the teapot.

Why am I making it an issue now, and outing myself as a married person? Because of irony, darling. Irony and Twitter.

When I finally persuaded Robert to join me on Twitter, he bastardized my name and became @AlphonseBunter. After all those years of refusing to answer to “Mrs. Wilson”, now it looks to the world like I am Mrs. Unter. Feh! Feh and phooey. Don’t ask where “Alphonse” came from, I doubt he knows.

In closing, I recommend that you do two things: follow @AlphonseBunter on Twitter, and youtube “The Real Hustle”. While you’re at it, check out my cherished @Cybrarian’s ‘Word Of The Day’ blog http://bit.ly/2vZ8d0