Mrs. Smith

On Friday, I became a Mrs.

At the request of my roommate, I did the research for our internet connection at home. I called up our local cable and telephone companies, getting prices for service, installation and equipment. After I'd compiled a very short list of possible internet service providers, I left him a note at home.

Joe, I called around for internet service, and as it turns out, the only thing other than dial up we can get at the house is cable. It's $52.95 a month. BUT if you call before 9:00 tonight, we'll get it for $9.95 for the first three months. So call them and talk to Jane, and we'll be all set up with internet! - Laurie

I came home later that night to a note from him, in which he advised me that he called and ordered the service, and requested that I set up the installation appointment. Being the wonderful roommate that I am, I called to set it up first thing on Friday morning.

I explained to Jane that Joseph had called last night to order the service, and that I was calling to set up the appointment.

"Oh yes," she said. "There's a note on the computer that his wife would be calling in the morning."

His wife?

"Well, here I am," I announced proudly. I looked around the bank, laughing to myself that, just like that, I became a wife.

We set up an appointment and hammered out the details of the installation and pricing. "And that's it," Jane from Blue Ridge Cable said. "Do you have any other questions, Mrs. Smith?"

I laughed out loud. "No, no I don't have any other questions. Thank you so much for your help."

I giggled to myself as I hung up the phone. Me, married to a gay man. We would be breaking so many laws of nature were the two of us to exchange wedding vows.

A day later, I was sitting in the kitchen of my lovely home, while the cable guy fiddled with our new internet hookup, playing the role of my roommate’s wife.

“Who’s Joseph?” The short and stout cable guy asked me, looking at the contract in his hand.

“My husband,” I said, trying hard not seem at all fazed by the lie.

“Oh, is he here today?”

“No, he’s at work. Why?”

“I need his signature.”

“Oh. Uh, well…” I searched for some sort of solution...I was desperate to get the internet that day.

“Can you sign his name?” He offered.

“Sure I can.” I do all of Joe's banking, so I know what his signature looks like. I was sure I could make it look a least somewhat like his.

“Okay. Well, let me just get this all set up, then you can sign for him.” He turned to plug the cable into the wall, and caught a glimpse of my shoes. "You don't need heels!" He joked. "You're so tall already." He smiled at me. The top of his head was level with my chin.

"Yeah, I know. But I love them," I smiled back and made sure I was standing straight.

"Your husband must be a very tall man."

"Oh yes, he is." I laughed. "That's why I married him."

"Good reason," he joked and moved about his business.

"Once this is hooked up, will it work with my wireless laptop?"

He turned away from the wires and looked at me. "Well, you may have to configure the computers..."

"Oh." I looked at my laptop, sitting on the counter, rendered useless because I don't know anything about configuring or wireless connections.

"Do you want me to do it?" He asked, a bundle of unconnected wires in his small fist.

"No. Uh, I'll have my husband look at it."

"What does he do?"

"Who?"

"Your husband."

"Oh. He's a dentist."

"A dentist?" He said, looking over my shoulder and into the giant living room of our house. "A tall dentist who's good with computers? You're a lucky woman."

"Yes. I am. A lucky woman."

He handed me the contract in his hand. "Just sign his name here, here and here, and you're all set."

I did my best imitation of Joe's signature and handed the contract back to him. He looked around my house one last time, taking in the hardwood floors, the one wall of the dining room painted a deep red, the sprawling kitchen with windows overlooking the covered pool. He chuckled. "A tall dentist. My sister only wishes she were as lucky as you."

I gave him a smile and a shrug, marveling at how my life must look to this guy. Here I am, an attractive young woman in a huge house, the apparent stay-at-home wife of a doctor. Little does he know that he’s gay and I’m single, and I’m not even sure how much longer I’ll be living in this house.

I like his view better than mine.