#508 Name of Love

The other day when a close, um, “friend” of mine and I were hugging we chanced to make mutual observations on the appellation used by many to describe one’s primary source of affection.
What to call your lover that is.
As has been noted previously, what Americans call their significant others varies significantly, from you are my lovely paramour to—to paraphrase—yo my bitch. As we were currently in an embrace, we entertained the possibility of naming the relationship after the embrace.
The term “main squeeze” couldn’t help but come to mind.
Now, on the face of it, or prima facie as the Latin lovers say, calling someone after an active verb is probably not going to fly. If someone is jumping it’s okay to call him a “jumper” but calling him a “main jump” is bound to be confusing.
But again, the more grammatically appropriate “main squeezer” sounds a little grotesque. As if one’s lover were an orange of some sort. Ready to be rendered for a morning dose of Vitamin C-enhanced fluid.
And eliminating the “main” modifier and calling someone just a “squeeze” really brings into sharp focus what a lame name it is.
She is my squeeze. He is my squeeze. Yesterday we were squeezing together.
I mean, I can get into the whole notion of hugging. That actually sounds like a loving embrace. But squeeze?
Squeeze sounds like something you’re choking the life out of. People are in a squeeze when they have a problem. You squeeze something in a pair of pliers. People, even people wrung out from the throes of passionate love, are not toothpaste tubes.
Not to mention that the term “main squeeze” implies a series of squeezes that are not main. Subsidiary squeezes as it were.
Yeah, she’s my main squeeze, but I also have a couple of regular squeezes and an occasional temporary squeeze. Oh yeah, and then there’s my secondary squeeze. I just call her my pinch. Yo! You my pinch.
Every now and then, I’ll go to a party for a quick grab. And if I’m feeling really frisky, I might even prowl the bars looking for a one night goose.
America, ya gotta love it