Dan-the-Man: wait! What is his nickname for you? Hoppy?
Me: Yeah. I like it. I figure it’s a good thing as Hops keep beer fresher for long… right? That’s what Schild and Schalk explained.
Dan-the-Man: *shaking his head and laughing*
Me: Hey! C‘mon. It even rhymes with my other nickname Poppy!
Dan-the-Man: Did you Google which beer has the most amount of “hoppy” aroma, flavor, and bitterness?
Me: What’s going on? Wait let me Google it.
Dan-the-Man: *wiping tears out of his eyes while laughing out loud*
Me: *after a minute of Googling* NO WAY JOSE! They did not!
Dan-the-Man: *on the floor laughing uncontrollably now* Well played! Well played!
Me: *exasperated sending a voice message to my BF* YOU DIDNOT JUST GO INDIAN PALE ALE ON ME! You are calling me Hoppy! It is IPA! Whyyyyyyy???
Dan-the-Man: Well, technically, you are Indian Pale!
Me: Shut up!
Dan-the-Man: *uncontrollably laugh*
.
To confirm the paleness, this morning I received a message from Barwitzki:
“In a certain narrative world where the myth of ius primae noctis, is still a topos I claim my right of ius primae cucurbita after every major event of your relationship life. Only to give Schild or anyone else the possibility to pay the famous Stechpfennig (a word which goes perfectly well with Verbindungen, I guess) in this case in form of the soon-to-be-famous Kürbispfennig (a word which goes perfectly well with everything I studied and published about manorial obligations in Aargau, I guess). You see, our lack of PSL got you barwitzkied again. Deal with it!”
.
I am truly the Hoppy in this story. A very apt name indeed my Love. A very apt name indeed.
ANTHROPOLOGY OF LOVE 