Guest Blogger - The Mrs.

This is a busy week for me, so there won't be much in terms of casual writing.

HOWEVER, the Mrs. has kindly offered a story I alluded to earlier in the comments. For those of you unwilling or unable to click the link, the story is about the early days of our courtship and how I came to be known for a brief time as "Chocolate Boy."

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Since these events actually unfolded at my office, here is my version of the story for RT to embellish. [RT Note: I won't embellish.]

I had just started working at an African-American owned technology startup. It was a pretty big change for me, a new refugee from Fortune 50 telecom company I’ll call FacelessGigantiCorp.

To express whatever one expresses through chocolate (sweetness, love, lack of concern over weight gain in one’s beloved), then-boyfriend RT had developed a rather nice habit of sending me Godiva. He stepped it up during the first weeks of my time there, and little gold boxes were stacking up at my desk. This did not escape the notice of my new colleagues in the way that it might have at Faceless GigantiCorp. They were pretty happy to share in my good fortune, which they freely did. [RT note: She was project managing a tech group. I do not know how this can be done, or even if it CAN BE DONE, without food.]

To express their gratitude, or whatever one expresses through such a thing, they dubbed the unseen benefactor “Chocolate Boy.” [RT note: Legends grew in that office about the mysterious Chocolate Boy who would swoop in and give the Project Manager an unending supply of sweets and goodies. Everyone would go to my pre-Mrs.'s desk and ask about the latest adventures of Chocolate Boy. Then they would eat some chocolate as a way to pay homage. Then they would leave her desk and promptly miss all their deadlines. Ok, so maybe I embellished a little. But not much!]

These tales and stories did not come to the attention of the African-American CEO/founder until after he had actually met RT at a bring-your-S.O.’s function.

The exchange went something like this:

"Hello, Mr. CEO Bossman. This is my boyfriend/S.O., Chocolate Boy."

“Chocolate?!? Chocolate!??! That boy ain’t chocolate. White chocolate, maybe.”