What I love About English Men

He is half of a blessed man. Left to be finished by such as she; and she a fair divided excellence, whose fullness of perfection lies in him." ~ William Shakespeare

   They call you love. They call everyone love. And they say it in a fabulous English accent seasoned with one of the many dialects inherent upon what part of the Island a man was raised. You American women know what I'm talking 'bout ??!!
  In America the only men who might address women by the pet name of "love" are those who have had recent carnal knowledge of said female. And it will probably only slip from his lips once.
   The first time Les addressed me as love, was in a voice message on the phone. We had yet to meet in person and it left me puzzled and puzzling; whatever does Dir Sir mean by that? Was he taking my offer to stay for a week as a guest in my home as something more? Or is this a "British" thing?
   After a day or two I soon forgot about it....now I am married to a Brit and living in England, and MY English man calls me darlin' most of the time (sappy sod comes into play occasionally as well).
   To be sure, English women call me love too, but we are both quite clear it is a general term of endearment, said while offering me assistance. I much prefer it to the American term "Hon." I am no ones' honey--not even Les'.
   Ques in this country make me uncomfortable. Everyone jams themselves in nut to butt. We Americans are used to our own personal space--LOTS of it; typically in the U.S. we stake out a three foot circumference and only those who are invited intrude upon it. When standing in line--as we refer to queuing--we might withdraw our personal space to 18 inches.
   Back in September we were queud up nose to neck at a store in Hinckley, Les in front and me behind. All of a sudden a voice laden with rich, husky, dulcet tones not unlike that of Tom Jones whispered warmly right into my ear, "Excuse me love." I almost wet myself.
   My first shocked thought was "MY GOD!!! That is NOT my husband's voice," followed a nanosecond later by "HOLY MARY MOTHER OF PEARL!! A-strange-man-just-whispered-in-my-ear-and-called-me-love!
   About this time the unassuming fellow behind me pushed gently by and went on out the door with no clue he had just left an American woman in a total state of confused emotional distress.
   As an American ex-pat I will never get used to English men addressing me thus. And I hope I never do!