The Bet

Tonight on the way back from dinner, Diesel and I somehow got to talking about our friend Cyrill and his dad. Neither of us could remember Cyrill’s dad’s name, and the following conversation ensued:

K: “His name is ‘Heiko’”

T (rolling his eyes): “What? It’s not; it’s ‘Hirim’.”

K: “What kind of name is ‘Hirim”???”

T: “Well, ‘Heiko’ isn’t even a German name”

K: “It’s very German. And that’s Cyrill’s dad’s name!”

T: “It’s not. If you’re so sure, then what do you want to bet?

K: “Hmm…”

T: “What do you want to bet?”

(at this point diesel puts his finger on my nose)

T (still with his finger on my nose, now pressing it down on my face, as if he were ringing a doorbell): “What do you want to bet, potato nose?”*

K: “Hmm, how about this person has to take our clothes to the laundromat the next three times.”

T: “Ok, so I bet his name is not ‘Heiko’”

K: “I bet it’s something closer to ‘Heiko’ than ‘Hirim’”

(Hands were shaken).

As soon as I got home, I e-mailed Cyrill. I was tempted to mark the mail as “urgent,” but decided against it, being aware that our marital squabbles shouldn’t affect the lives of our friends–even when a dire decision such as this is concerned. As Diesel and I waited in excruciating anticipation of our domestic destiny, Cyrill’s e-mail hit my inbox:

Hey, his full name is: hans-joachim glockner or short hajo

I won; after ater all, I only really missed it by a “k” (since the “j” has an “i” sound). Diesel won’t honor the bet; instead, he sent Cyrill this:

“What?! I said Hiram and you said Heiko. Heiko is totally Japanesy and
Hiram is a proper German name. I win for sure. Do my laundry, woman!

Cyrill is now yet another witness to the sad existence of a mere housewife at the mercy of her domineering husband.

*Let the record show that this really happened. And let the record also show that Kelly is a victim of verbal abuse.