I knew all this lovey-dovey talk would prove embarrassing.

It started at a previous job.

The guys overheard me saying goodbye to my wife on the phone: "Me, too. Bye."

They knew what was going on. They were married.

"Oh, go ahead and say you love her, too," they heckled.

So from then on, I faithfully added "I love you" at the end of every phone call with Marge.

I continued that little endearment when I moved to this job in an open office with few partitions.

Occasionally, work distracted me and I'd hang up without saying it.

Immediately, the phone would ring again.

"Don't you love me?" Marge would plaintively ask.

"Oh, sorry, I love you. Bye."

With this office routine in mind, a departing fellow employee, whom I had worked with for five years, recently summarized her strongest impression of me.

She concluded, "Eric is the most married guy I have ever met."

Skip ahead to another distracted phone conversation.

Although my conservative colleague Ralph and I beat up on each other in our competing columns, we work closely together in getting the paper out every week.

Last week, I called Ralph at home and reached his voice mail. As I wrapped up my message, my attention drifted back to my e-mails:

"OK, I love you and see you soon, Bye."

I immediately realized what I had done. Completely flustered, I kept on, digging the hole ever deeper.

"No, no, I don't love you, I hate you.

"No, I don't hate you. I think you're, er, fine. Bye."

I prayed he would not hear the message or it would not end up on YouTube.

I thought of offering him 20 bucks to delete the message before listening to it, but with his journalistic instincts I knew an attempted bribe would just make him more curious.

I started devising wild Lucy and Ethel schemes to steal the message tape.

But, alas, he heard it. So did much of the office.

The accounting department suggested Ralph bring me a single rose.

Eric Mathison can be reached at hteditor@robinsonnews.com or 206-388-1855.