When I was 15 my step father gave me the most influential piece of advice I’ve ever received. There have been other statements that helped me make more money, or kept me out of jail (with only two exceptions), but this single statement is the one that effected the way more decisions have been made throughout my entire life. He simply said, “Guys like that grow up to fuck fat ugly women.”
Why don’t more people give honest direct advise like that? I would have been much less of a fuck up as a child if people would have just stuck to the point when trying to tell me what mistakes I was making. Don’t say she’s not the girl for me. Tell me she sucked you off in a subway bathroom. Okay, bad example, but you get the point.
And the point behind this blog is once again my stepfather’s prediction has come true. Friday night the wife and I went to a local bar to meet up with some people I went to high school with. For the most part the evening went much like it would have 16 years ago (I was drunk) but I did enjoy catching up with a few people I’d lost track of. One is a photographer and from what I remember probably a pretty good one. Two others fly dirigibles (blimps, if you have to ask like I did) which for some reason I find fascinating. And then there are the people who live less than a mile from me and I haven’t seen them in 10 years. But my favorite is a guy who walked in the back and stood at the edge of the crowd all night. In grade school he was the first to introduce me to the word nigger (the first sign of my step father’s prediction) by explaining to me informing me “we don’t eat with them.” In the 7th grade he constantly felt the need to analyze the status of everyone’s pubic hair (not included in the prediction, but still really fucking odd). And for some reason once a year for the last 15 years, someone comes up to me to let me know just how much this guy despises me. We’ve never fought, we’ve never even confronted each other, yet he still finds the time to converse about his hatred for me. About 10 years ago I got fired from my job for 5 minutes (the subject of another blog, I promise). The VP who felt the need to fire me, also felt the need to discuss it with his family at the dinner table the night before. The VP’s son informed the gentlemen in question and for 6 months after that I heard stories about how happy he was that I’d lost the job (that I didn’t loose). Each time I’ve heard these stories I’ve been a little miffed about them as most people would be. Then this past Friday night came along and my step father’s advise/prediction turned my head towards the door. I saw a bald middle aged man (easy assholes, I’m bald by choice) walk in a bar, grab a water, and stand at the edge of a crowd trying to talk his way into the pants of girls 15 years younger and 50 pounds heavier. The only way I could have been happier is if he had a hair piece that was slightly askew, and plaid pants. Well, I would have been happier if he was still asking to see everyone’s pubic hair but that would probably take place behind the bar instead of in it.
Thanks Pops. If it weren’t for you and a subway bathroom or two, life might have been different for me. Instead, so far I’ve lived it to the fullest and all the fat ugly women I’ve nailed have been by choice and not necessity.