My grandfather, Hugo, named me ‘Choicee” when I was a little babe. His first Grandchild from his first and only daughter.
Much like the word ‘choice’, but with an extra E sound — and letter.
Turns out I am choicee, or choosy, I suppose is the non-Liberian broken English
Don’t know how to make a choice for the life of me.
Like a sad game of double dutch,
Constantly moving quickly from one side to the next.
Like the true double Gemini I am.
Trouble is, no one believes in that.
But I do.
I’m living proof.
Straight Bulleit Bourbon drunk living proof.