[Lexicog] some linguistic humor - How I Met My Wife

[Fritz Goerling]

How I met my wife

Source: Jack Winter. 1994. How I met my wife. New Yorker, July 25.

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, [or 
should that be hevelled?-BES] 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 traveling 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 there 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 responded 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 became 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.






 
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