No, not me personally. “How I Met My Wife” is the title of a nimble essay by Jack Winter that appeared in The New Yorker (July 25, 1994) and uses the concept of unpaired words and the opposites of common idioms to fresh effect. A copy hangs up on the editorial bulletin board where I work (okay, because I totally put it there). It’s a classic piece for word nerds.
“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 sheveled, 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.”
Read the complete essay here (if you have access to The New Yorker’s online archives; otherwise all you can access is the abstract) or here (a blogger’s retype, with British spelling and minor typos).
“To my delight, she was committal … I have given her my love, and she has requited it.”
(via The New Yorker)