I work in a dental office, and, as all great dental offices do, my office subscribes to People magazine. Not on purpose, mind you–People just sends us freebies.
And sadly, given my basically news-free existence (no t.v., no newspaper, no radio–no statement, really, it’s just happened like that), People magazine has become my sole contact with the outside world–if by “outside” I mean “pop culture,” which in this case I do.
Apparently, the “outside world” is big on celebrity couples, and I just can’t help but notice that referring to those reigning couples by two separate names seems to be exhausting for the magazine’s typesetters–they’ve conveniently given each couple a single, androgenous title.
Which makes me wonder: can we possibly have two Bennifers? Why, yes, apparently we can–same Ben, different Jennifers. And who came up with that god-awful Brangelina? It sounds like a breakfast cereal gone horribly wrong. Fortunately someone stopped them before they introduced Custin, or Demashton.
But, this whole smoosh movement has got me thinking–wouldn’t that be handy? I mean, Mitch and I could combine our names, you know, legally, and save ourselves the hassle of forging each others’ signatures on key documents. We could be…Thitch. Or possibly Mea.
Of course, when I share my enlightened idea with Mitch, he stares at me as though I’ve suggested we take up puppy hunting. Eventually he says, in an unmistakably frightened voice, “Excuse me?”
“Well, I was just thinking,” I rally defensively, “it might be more convenient, and ‘Thitch’ has a certain sort of appeal, don’t you think?”
He continues to stare at me–horrified, his lips moving wordlessly–for so long that I begin to fear I’ve done him permanent damage.
“Nevermind,” I say hastily. “Forget it.” And the spell is broken: he breathes again.
Which makes me wonder how Brad has taken the switch to “Brangelina.” (I’m significantly less concerned about Ben.)