Most everybody in my hometown had nicknames, crazy nicknames like Cardboard, and Neva Nabber. They meant something in particular to the originator, but whether you knew the origin or not, the nicknames stuck.
The last time I visited there, my BFF from highschool took me with her to visit Neva Nabber,who had recently returned home to live.
During our catching up, Neva mentioned that her gay son lives in Salt Lake City. whereupon my recent research of FLDS sects kicked in, especially the old ways of dealing with sinners whose sins were too serious for the blood of Christ to atone for. So I figured a gay man in SLC was a target for Blood Atonement.
me: SLC? That’s an evil place for a gay man!
Neva: SLC is very cosmopolitan. Why do you say it’s evil?
me: Cause it’s full of those effing MORMONS!
Neva: Oh. Well, we’re a Mormon family.
me: frozen smile, cutting eyes wildly to BFF, who is trying very hard not to look at me.
me: changes subject, convo continues.
We had a mostly lovely visit. Neva was still the perky, fun-filled person she always was, and we left on good terms.
BFF and I get into the car, look at one another and totally lose it. Big, long gaspy breaths, tears streaming down the face. There may have been a little pee.
It’s good to know I still have the knack.