My wife, Zennie, thought I was having an affair with a woman called ‘Angela’. I made her believe it. But Angela was the name I’d given the computer I used at work.
A set of guys at work gave our equipment names.
From the stapler; ‘Jocko’ to the papershredder, ‘Ripley’, so we could toss remarks like,
“I couldn’t find Jocko all morning, he was with Ripley, what are they carrying on with?”
And those who didn’t know our game would wonder who we were talking about. We thought it was so clever.
I would go to work and say something about ‘Angela’ and Zennie would get jealous, and I’d laugh, wanting to drag out the joke so that one day I could embarrass her in that silly way, introducing her to my computer.
But I never got around to it.
When I left Zennie that night I said, “I’m going to Angela, at least she understand me.”
And I went to the boat, and stowed my gear, and sat down and kind of fumed.