When people ask my name at coffee shops & such, I give the name Cameron because my name always ends up being “Rita” or “Lisa” or “Rhys” or some weird shit I can’t understand, read, or explain. So this morning, while I’m waiting for my soy white mocha easy syrup with whip, the barista at Peet’s (whose name is also Cameron) looks to me, confirms that I’m the one whose order is under the name “Cameron,” and asks, “You know that Cameron is an anagram for ‘romance’?”
If that were a pickup line, it would probably go in the top 5 of all time, though it’s only effective for people named Cameron. Uh oh.
I pointed out that Cameron is in fact my son’s name, we had a good laugh, and I came to the startling realization that if my son ever notices this anagram, the ladies of the world are doomed. DOOMED.
I mean, Cameron is already a flirt. We were at Trader Joe’s and the kid reached out for a woman as she passed by, so she approaches him and gives her hand, because he’s so cute, and who can say no to that semi-toothless grin? So he takes her hand in both of his and then proceeds to STROKE HER HAND.
I DID NOT TEACH THIS. This child of mine is a natural born casanova and it’s apparently in his name. I’m pretty sure that line is going to be the introduction of his autobiography.
“Did you know the name Cameron is an anagram for ‘romance’?”
I’m in so much trouble.