In the land of “sugarpie” and “honeybunch,” cynics like me never stood a chance.
I present to you last weekend, when I had the pleasure of sharing an El car with Schnookums and Honey.
Wait. Don’t stop reading. It gets better.
Schnookums was pretty convinced that Honey didn’t like Schnookums’s new haircut and, furthermore, that this was the probable cause of Honey’s flirting with Slutbag. Honey assured Schnookums that this was not the case, and the conversation soon dissolved into a live-action Hallmark card of “No, I love you more.”
Now, I pray to whatever deity that’s currently blowing up Madonna’s skirt that these are not this couple’s birth-given names. I’m sure Tom and Nancy or whoever’s parents weren’t snorting ground-up candy hearts in the third trimester. Which brings me to my point:
I hate pet names — not of the “Fido” variety, but the affectionate nicknames given to a girlfriend/boyfriend/plaything/etc. They’re a good idea gone awry: People want to be sweet to each other, but end up vomitting saccharine emotion all over my otherwise perfectly good El ride. Pet names are the PDA of words, and I don’t mean to startle anyone into submitting to my opinion, but Boston College’s faculty tried to ban public displays of affection on campus in 2004. It isn’t cool.
Granted, people are going to use pet names no matter what I say or do. But for the sake of your fellow students and El passengers everywhere, please, please, please, have some consideration in your pet name use:
Pick a Good’un
Americans are drowning in a sea of Honey, Sweetie, Baby, Angel, Cutie, Darling, Muffin, Cupcake and other pastries I’d like to see in the Allison dining hall. RomanceClass.com recommends using one of these frosting-covered addresses to speak “the language of love” to your partner. If oversentimentality is your thing, go for it.
But I have much more respect for the individual who can conjure up an original pet name for their significant other. Harp on an inside joke or zero-in on a partner’s favorite animal or movie character. It’s more intimate, and, well, isn’t that the point of using a pet name?
Also, please do not be profane. If it has the word “ass” in it, I promise I don’t want to hear it on my way to lunch. “Sugarpuss” counts. Ew.
Be discreet
Group projects are fun. Only one person does the work, there’s a 300-style battle of who has to buy the paint, and someone always, always has to visit their sick grandma the weekend before the project is due.
When you’re in a situation where you’re working with other people, there’s no need to ask Sweetcheeks to pass the construction paper. She has a name. Unless you want your facebook profile to say “In A Relationship with Sweetcheeks,” then get used to using birth names in public.
If it’s a special occasion and you’re on a Chipotle date for an anniversary (I love college romance), it’s okay to let a “baby” or two slip. Likewise, it can be cute and private to enter his/her name in your phone as “Honey poo” or whatever you kids are in to. Just keep it that: private.
Get Used to It
Cashiers will call you “sweetie.” Waitresses will call you “dumpling.” Shuttle drivers — god bless their souls — will call you whatever they want to (hell, they showed up!). Even my editor called me something cutesy the other day. Pet names live on. Don’t roll your eyes and say something snarky (um, like everything you’ve just read), because it’s just rude. Suck it up, then let the gripes run wild when you get back to the dorm.
Some people can get away with dropping pet names like it’s hot. One of my underlings on yearbook staff in high school called everyone “honey.” It seemed perfectly fine until everyone started hating her. So if you’re likable, and it feels natural, I won’t stop you.
And if you’re not? Welcome to the team, sweetcheeks.