Misneoverbum

Lights flashed in the night as Cathy and Alison sat drinking their Red Bulls and eating their mid-crawl snacks.

“Look, look,” Alison slurred to Cathy, “ you see her?”

“Who?” Cathy asked.

“Her. Right there posing for her fauxtographer boyfriend,” Ali said as she pointed at one of the hundreds of drunk girls stumbling their way through another Saturday night.

“Oh, yeah. What’s a fauxtographer?” Cathy asked.

“A fauxtographer is someone that only thinks or pretends to be a photographer for their socials. Or someone that thinks they’re a photographer, but is really bad at it,” Ali responded.

“Yeah, you hate to see those idiots,” Cathy responded before taking a bite of her beer cheese nacho dog. “Did you come up with that?”

“Yeah,” Ali responded.

Okay, I hate to admit, she’s actually come up with something clever this time.

Cathy grabbed Ali’s hand, looked deep in her eyes, sighed, and gave Ali the bad news. “Ali, sweetheart, I hate to tell you this, but that’s been around a while. And that’s not what it means”

“Oh,” Ali said dejectedly.

“It’s cool though. I like it. But what you got there is what I call a misneoverbum,” Cathy said before taking her last bite.”

"What’s that?” Ali asked.

“It’s when you think you have created a new word, but in fact, you have discovered an existing word you didn’t know existed,” Cathy said, throwing her trash in a basketball like arch to the trash can.

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