I Got a Guy

Pronounced, "I-got-ta-guy"
We're STILL working on our 1st floor bathroom (yes, it's the project that never ends) and here in Chicago, I've tapped into the GOBN. That's the Good Old Boys Network, for non-Chicagoans. Where a bunch of *ahem* older guys know everyone. I called my uncle with a question about a referral for some home improvement type stuff. I ask specifically about Mr SO and SO, who was an old family friend. "No way," he says, "that guy's a crook." The he says, "Don't worry. I got a guy."
Everyone here has Got A Guy for everything. And, in a peculiar way, like everyone else from my parent's generation, everyone must be called by their first and last names. It always makes me laugh. Each time he's referred me to these GOBs, I call and say, Hi, This is Dave's Niece. No further introduction needed.
So yesterday I tell Hubs, don't worry, I got a guy. I explain the whole tale, and finish by telling him that although the guy in question was the first male - outside Daddy, of course - to ever earn my absolute adoration, my first crush, he need not feel threatened. Since I was 4 and he was about 28, he's now quite outside the range of Guys Husbands Should Worry About. Still, it's funny.
This morning I called "the guy" and sure enough, I can hear the gentle condescension in his voice, because he probably thinks I'm about 12. There are some roles we'll never get past. I'm Dave's Niece. Period.