There once was a man from Nantucket … who moved to Arizona because he developed a seafood allergy and could no longer stand the way everyone sounded like either the Gorton’s fisherman or upper-crusters from 1930s-era films.
Early in his attempt to assimilate in Arizona, he alienated many locals who hated how he smelled like fish and spoke like an upper-cruster from 1930s-era films. Now that was an ironic kettle/black boomerang if ever there was one!
Not wishing to risk a mental breakdown by dealing with the problem by himself, he swallowed his pride and for once consulted his imaginary wife, whose name changed from fantasy to fantasy. Sometimes, she was the bespectacled pharmacist Sheila with neck tattoos and spikey black hair with purple tips. Sometimes she was the perpetually-randy Janeece, a gynecologist’s assistant who occasionally liked to bring her work home.
This day, she was former nun and current community college adjunct professor of English For Illegals Mary Elizabeth Margaret Catherine, a bit dazed and confused for having just been in a minor traffic accident. He explained his concerns to her but became agitated when she couldn’t focus due to the trauma of her fender-bender (and being imaginary, to boot).
All of this rambling is my clumsy way of wishing you all a HAPPY THANKSGIVING.