Pistachio nut junkie
I have a confession to make.
I was once an addict.
For three years of my life I was a pistachio nut junkie.
It started out innocently enough, it always does. Just a few pistachio nuts can't hurt me, I told myself. How wrong I was. A few nuts led to a few more and then even more until I was irreversibly hooked.
I wasted my days away popping those little red devils in my room. My habit was insatiable. I had no scruples when it came to filling my habit. I even stooped to lying to my own family. I would borrow money from my mother telling her it was for booze and cigarettes and then I would run out to buy a bag of pistachio nuts instead.
My pistachio dealer used to make contact with me at the candy counter in Woolworths.
"Got the money, kid?" he asked.
"Yeah. I need a fix bad," I replied as I handed the money over with violently shaking hands.
He carefully measured out a pound of pistachios and placed them in a bag.
"I gotta have more!" I pleaded.
"Sorry kid, this is all I can spare."
"Are they good quality?" I asked.
"Are you kidding? This shipment just came in from Thailand. These are Bangkok Reds---the best there is."
"Oh wow!"
I went through hell every time my supply ran out. I tore up my carpeting and threw furniture around my room in a desperate effort to find any stray pistachios I may have dropped on the floor. I checked the bottoms of pistachio bags in order to squeeze out a few extra grams of the red killer. Sometimes I even chewed on empty pistachio nut shells to extract every last bit of pistachio possible.
An addict can't hide his habit. People were noticing changes in me. Cracked fingernails, red stains on my hands, bulging stomach --- typical symptoms of a pistachio addict.
Finally, a sympathetic friend suggested that I go to the Pistachio Nut Treatment Center. With some hesitation I entered the clinic.
The staff at the center were very professional. They had a therapy program which consisted of discussion groups among pistachio addicts describing their individual experiences.
My eyes were opened. The discussion groups along with analysis from staff psychologists made me realize that pistachio nuts were merely substitutes for what was really missing in my life. Since that time I have gotten rid of my pistachio habit.
I am now hooked on cashew nuts.
P.J. Gladnick lives in South Florida which is full of eccentrics which is why he feel right at home here. P.J.‘s main accomplishments in life was winning a bottle of aftershave when he was eight and having the biggest PING List (almost 1000 Pingees) on the Free Republic forum for my DUmmie FUnnies blog. This is fortunate since he suffer severely from Ping List Envy.
He has written a syndicated humor column that appeared in dozens of newspapers throughout North America. Only complete humility forbids him from telling you that his columns appeared in the Houston Chronicle, St. Petersburg Times, L.A Herald-Examiner, Winnipeg Free Press, Cleveland Plain Dealer, Vancouver Sun.
P.J. has produced an award-winning satirical comix website called PJ’s Comix. Among the people we viciously satirized was James Carville but I hope that Mary overlooks that.
P.J. can be reached at: pjcomix@hotmail.com
Read next: Confessions Of A Censored Conservative
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