My wife is fond of fast food. I am not. My wife is particularly fond of the Wendy’s Baconator. I argue that it’s less expensive to order a Dave’s Double with a side of bacon, then put your own pretzels on top. (I’m fond of the Rold Gold Tiny Twists Original.) That way, the pretzels stay crunchy. Because my wife and I own our Virginia home jointly, she is entitled to her order. It was my wife who refused to tip the delivery driver last week when her burger arrived soggy, and who wrote, “You want a tip? Here’s one: go back to your own country,” on his DoorDash page. It had nothing to do with me.
My wife is fond of private jets. I am not. It was my wife who accepted a free flight on a Gulfstream G200 to Aspen, Colorado, for an all-expenses-paid weekend with oil-industry lobbyists. I occupied the seat next to my wife, because it would have been empty otherwise. While flying, I was offered a package of cashews “dusted with truffle salt” and, not wanting to appear churlish, I accepted. In Aspen, I occupied the left side of the king-size bed in the Presidential suite of the Four Seasons, which also would have been empty otherwise. My wife is fond of luxury hotels and eight-hundred-thread-count sheets, which I find excessive. That is her right as a private citizen.
My wife is fond of Timothée Chalamet. I am not. While I find him beautiful, I don’t find him attractive, if that makes sense. My wife was solely responsible for our seeing “Call Me by Your Name” three times. I was not made aware in advance of the enthralling sexual undertones of the movie and went only to accompany my wife, who is a private citizen and a Regal Crown Club member.
My wife is fond of expensive men’s watches. I am not. It was my wife who stuffed a vintage 38-mm. Patek Philippe Calatrava in my underwear as we left Neiman Marcus during the holiday weekend. So there was no reason that I should submit to questions from the security guard, especially one who refers to me as “pal” and not “Your Honor.” Nor is there any reason, once the store’s manager graciously offered the watch as an apology for the guard’s rudeness, that I shouldn’t wear it in public. My wife is fond of expensive men’s watches. I am not, although this one is quite handsome.
My wife is not fond of your wife. I am. For that reason, I disagree with my wife’s characterization of your wife as a “hatchet-faced crone.” I also believe it’s unnecessary to “hide the liquor” from her every time the two of you visit. I think it’s quite possible for your wife and me to be good friends, even having dinner together occasionally, without it becoming a “thing.” But because my wife is an equal equity holder in our Virginia home—and therefore an equal equity partner in all the contents within—I agreed to hide the liquor from your wife, whom I’m fond of although my wife is not.
My wife is fond of Norwegian death metal. I am not. It was my wife who blasted Gorelord’s “Dismembered Virgin Limbs” over a loudspeaker for three straight days after you complained that our dog once again defecated on your children’s splash pad. I wasn’t aware of the music until the police showed up. I then asked my wife politely to turn it down, or maybe switch to something softer, like Darkthrone or some early Myrkskog. She declined, which is her right as a citizen with a Class A driver’s license and as a former notary public who is fond of Norwegian death metal and our dog. Our dog is not fond of you. That is our dog’s right.
My wife is fond of parades. I am not. It was my wife who suggested that we join a march through Durham, North Carolina. I was unaware at that time that the marchers included neo-Nazis, Russian oligarchs, several leaders of the Aryan Brotherhood, three of the F.B.I.’s Ten Most Wanted, and Ted Cruz, although my wife is not fond of Ted Cruz. I made some brief remarks to the crowd because I was told that the podium would be unoccupied between appearances by David Duke and Björn Höcke. I wouldn’t have otherwise.
Some critics claim that my wife’s actions mean that I should recuse myself from the nation’s business. I disagree. If you have any further questions, you should speak with my attorney, who is my wife. It has nothing to do with me. ♦