Despite my daddy issues, I have always found myself gravitating toward men with a sense of humor similar to my dad’s. My dad has a rapier wit and a quick comeback to anything anyone lobs at him. Big Bren is the exact same way. And I am finding that my pen-pal does, too.
The other day, we were engaging in our usual incessant digital chatter. Someone was making my life miserable and I needed someone to commiserate with me. After I detailed everything this woman was doing that I found objectionable, he responded: “She’s sleeping with pistachios.”
I cocked my head to the side and tried to figure that one out. Was he even speaking to me? Maybe he got his e-mails mixed up and this was addressed to someone else. Who would sleep with pistachios? And if this was someone else he knew, who the hell would call themselves -- or tolerate anyone else calling them -- “Pistachios”?
A split second later, he sent another message: “She’s fucking nuts.”
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