Why I love the Nameless Wonder.

Sometimes I wonder if he’s even human — this brilliant, generous, funny, unbelievably patient, genteel, kind and dizzyingly desirable man who loves me and is always there for me, and will never let go, and whom I shall refer to henceforth as the Nameless Wonder, for reasons only he and I understand. Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent, though I believe one or two people may have tumbled to his real identity by now. 😉

My lover/best friend/geekgod/partner in crimes against humanity/rival for world domination and I had dinner Thursday, to celebrate our anniversary.

We met up, scandalized the public with a severely mushy hello, and were seen together by pretty much his entire office staff, which was a little freaky for me — no big deal, really, but I just prefer a low profile when it comes to his working world. However, sometimes it’s unavoidable, since we move in such overlapping circles.

Furthermore, despite my best efforts at staying in the background, the man insists on drawing me into every aspect of his life because he says he wants me there. Works for me if he doesn’t mind that people assume or actually know that we’re together.

It was a perfect evening, but then we could’ve eaten fishballs on a streetcorner in the pouring rain and I’d’ve been happy.

Even when my car died before we got out of the basement parking facility, it was still okay. Because he was there. He managed to tow my poor dead rattletrap up to street level (where the steel towing cable promptly gave up the ghost), and I called the Automobile Association of the Philippines for rescue.

He waited with me til midnight for the tow truck to arrive, and finally my knight in shining armor drove off into the… sunset? No. Make that inky blackness of night.

The thing was in the shop over the weekend, and due to the infernal inconvenience of having been paid for a voice-over gig on Saturday with a post-dated check (argh), it looked like it would stay stuck in the shop for a week more (double argh). Oh well. C’est la vie.

The idea of me being carless did not sit well with him, so he offered to help out with an emergency loan — which I refused at first, because discussions of money make me distinctly uncomfortable. Even worse when it’s somebody else’s money. He, however, being the eminently practical person he is, convinced me to let him bail me out rather than suffer carlessly (is that even a word?) the whole week. I agreed, on the condition that the second my funds became liquid, I’d pay him back right away.

Sigh. This man and his carefully-cultivated image of tightwaddery and cheapskateliness. What a sham. 😀

So we met up yesterday after work and after the usual hilarity and public scandal, he asked me for my hand to hold out my hand, and put something in it. I opened my hand, and there were my keys.

My car keys. Which were supposed to be at the shop, where my car was.

We’d agreed to meet up, go to the mechanic’s, pay the bill, and get the car. But my keys were in my hand. Can you say confused?

Finally, he can’t maintain the look of innocence for long takes pity on me and admits that he figured we might linger too long over coffee and not make it to the shop in time to pay the bill, so he went over there earlier and took care of everything.

Which was why he had my keys. And all I had to do was go and get my car.

So I did.

The kicker? My Dad had taken the car to the shop, and told the manager that I or my husband (okay, my ex-husband) would come back to pay the bill. And he shows up there and does exactly that. The funniest thing in the world. The poster boy for relationships without commitment, allowing people to assume he was my husband. Even asked me, after I’d informed him of this ridiculously ironic situation, whether I thought we ought to act, er… you know.

After the fit of hysterical giggling, I went in there and retrieved my car. Once more, my hero goes out on that limb and rescues me from certain doom. Although I get the feeling that if I were bound to a railroad track like Penelope Pitstop in the path of an oncoming train, he’d probably stare and enjoy the look of it before he rescued me. 😀

Sigh. Peggy Lee put it perfectly: Hallelujah, I just love him so.


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