“Oh, that’s great.” (pretty long and rant-ish) (1071 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 1.13 on 25 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by harmlessness (View user info) at 2004-08-26 16:19:42 EDT
Yesterday I broke down and went to work with my dad. As many of you may know, my dad isn't a stand-up guy by anyone's standards. Ray, a family friend and my dad's work partner, is. He's a good guy. So anyways, here is my story.
The day before, I asked to be awakened at precisely six o'clock. This way, I could take my time to wake up, walk my dog, feed and water the dog and cat, take a shower, and have some time to relax before work. Now, my dad claims that he's ALWAYS awake at precisely five-thirty AM. I have known for a while that this isn't true, as I'm usually about to go to bed at that time. And he's never awake.
Anyways, the morning comes. I hear him trying to wake me up. So I open an eye and glance at my clock, which tells me two things: 1) I have twenty minutes to get ready, and 2) This morning is going to royally suck. I jump out of bed, scramble to get ready, and take my dog out.
By the time we leave, my dad is yelling. This is something he promised that he would stop doing. I keep calmly reminding him of this and he keeps yelling at me.
"YOU DON'T FUCKING LISTEN UNLESS I YELL!"
"Dad, you know that's not true. In fact, the more you yell, the less I listen."
"SHUT UP, YOU LITTLE FUCK! WE"RE LATE! DON'T PISS ME OFF TODAY!"
"Okay, Dad. Here's the deal. I thought you said you'd stop yelling for no reason? Obviously you're not as honest of a man as you tell everyone."
"...." (Imagine that in capitalized characters.)
We ride to the warehouse to pick up the supplies for the job. Four rolls of vinyl, two large buckets of glue, a one-hundred pound vinyl roller, and twelve sheets of quarter-inch thick plywood. We set off on the one-hour drive to the job, which is in Captain's Cove, VA.
Upon arrival, we greet the loads of Hispanic drywallers and the crew of rather 1950's-esque electricians. As always, I open my book and write down what time it is. This way, I know when we arrive and I can log my hours accordingly. All the while, my dad is walking through the house and making his rather vile presence known to all.
Just as I finish up, I take a swig of soda and walk to the back of the van to grab two sheets of plywood and carry them in. I make it inside, and as I turn a corner I see a yellow flash in front of me and watch as the ladder begins to fall over. The tools and nails spill out of the belt that was sitting on top.
"Oh, that's great." The head electrician and I say in unison as I begin picking everything up.
When I'm done, I walk back outside and take another swig of soda.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, BOY, WHY AREN"T YOU TAKING SHIT IN!?!?"
"I was writing down what time it is, Dad."
"FUCK THAT YOU SHOULD KNOW!"
"Well I don't. So I write it down."
"FUCK YOU, DUMBFUCK!"
"Okay, Dad. I'm done."
I climb back into the van and sit. He proceeds to carry all of the supplies and tools inside. When he's done, he climbs in the van to park it out of the way. We stop moving, and I'm still looking away from him out of the window.
"Here, want a hit of this," he asks, "It'll calm you down."
"No, Dad. I'm alright."
"No, take a hit. You'll calm down."
I hear the sound of a Bic lighter lighting and then I hear the sound of a pipe being sucked on. Afterwards, I feel a tap on my back and turn around to see my dad's hand holding a bowl.
"I told you, I don't want any. I quit smoking."
"Suit yourself, fucking punk."
He sits for another ten minutes or so and finally goes inside. I sit where I am and think about things. I see Ray's car rolling down the street towards me and I half-heartedly wave. He parks and walks up to the van, obviously noticing my mood.
"I hear your dad almost got his ass kicked today. Those electricians told me he was getting on their last nerves."
"Ye—Yeah, he flipped out on me when I was writing down my hours."
I could feel my eyes welling up. It was just too much.
"Yeah, I heard."
He walks to the back of the van and opens the doors. He looks up and notices that I'm still sitting there.
"So you're taking the day off?"
"No, just give me a second."
As he walks off, I totally lose it. Tears are pouring. It's hard for a 16 year old to let people see him cry. It's really hard.
"Tim, it's going to be okay. Things will cool down. Take all the time you need. You know I'm here to talk to."
"Thanks, man. I'll be in soon."
I take another five minutes or so and grab what I need to start.
I get inside, see everyone working, and find Ray. He's much easier to work with than my dad. I ask him where I should start and he points over to the master bathroom.
"Scrape that and make sure there are no nails sticking up."
I nod and get to work.
The day really goes without any hitches, but I was already in a bad mood. Every smile I saw seemed to make me madder. I began to wonder why these people had the privilege of being happy. What had they done that made them so special? What had I done that made me deserving of this punishment?
We get the plywood laid down and the leveler patch spread. Then we set the fans up so it will dry quicker. The day is already turning out to be more humid than we thought, so naturally it's going to take longer for the patch to dry.
An hour later, I'm still inside and my dad is in his van. Ray comes inside and tells me to check the patch in the master bathroom whilst he checks the patch in the kitchen. It's not dry yet. It's going to take another hour or so to be dry.
We decide to pack up and leave, and when we're all packed up, we start talking and telling stories from our pasts, laughing, and generally relaxing. Things are beginning to cool down and everything is cool, it seems.
After the hour-long ride home, I come upstairs and check to see if I have any e-mails, messages, or new NationState issues. After a while, I head downstairs to take the front wheel off of the riding lawnmower because my dad bent the side of the axle. Backwards.
I get that done, and I get a call. It's Ryan, curious if I want to come over. I put the phone down and ask my dad. He says "okay, but be home at 10."
Not even twenty minutes after arriving at Ryan's house, I get a call. From my dad. I ignore it, hoping he'll leave me alone. Then I hear the sound of a voicemail being received. I call my voicemail company and hear the operator telling me that I have "one-hundred-twelve" saved message and one new message.
"Hey, boy, mah computer broke. I reinstalled windows and shit but I can't get trillion to work. Get your ass home."
I call him back to tell him I'll be home at 10, as promised. After about twenty minutes of him yelling, I say "I'll be home at 10. Bye" and hang up on him, mid rant. I hang out for a while and finally, 9:45 rolls around. I head across the street to ask another friend (one with a license) to take me home. I even offered to pay for gas. He agrees, starts his van up, and backs to Ryan's house.
I load my spare computer into his van and we are off. A few minutes later, we're sitting on the side of the road with a state trooper behind us. It seems that my friend's house has been under surveillance for a while and they think I went to buy drugs. Ironically, in my pocket, I have 350$. That's cause for suspicion.
As most know, drugs can be expensive. He begins accusing me of selling drugs. After thoroughly searching my friend, myself, and the van, he tells us we got lucky this time and gets in his car. It's now 10:45 and I'm very late. I get home and spend a whole five minutes finishing setting up my dad's computer. I do it usually two times per week because he always gets viruses and stuff and decides that it needs to be reformatted. It takes me about 15 minutes to do it now.
I'm fast.
Later on, I get on AIM, talk to Val ( VAL VAL VAL VAL VAL VAL VAL VAL VAL ) and end up passing out mid-sentence while talking to a friend.
The end.
(VAL VAL VAL RULES)
User Reviews
Submitted by Spiral_Abraxis (user info) at 2004-09-06 19:46:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/40455 - Lindsay Lohan completely fucking naked!
Submitted by beancat at 2004-08-27 13:18:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Well, I gotta say I know your dad is a jerk... but let me just add a couple of marketable skills that I know you have:
artist
working with animals
working with kids
wordsmith
Give me a few minutes, and I know I will come up with some more.
Hang in there, Tim. Keep fighting for emancipation, and even I won't be able to tell you what to do!
Love!
Submitted by StonedSilly (user info) at 2004-08-26 19:29:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
and ubersite fucked up my arrows.
Submitted by DonkeyOnTheEdge (user info) at 2004-08-26 19:17:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
It wasn't THAT long.
Submitted by Timmah (user info) at 2004-08-26 19:16:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Garh, It gets so confusing when people call you Tim on something ive rated, I keep forgetting it's your name too.
Submitted by StonedSilly (user info) at 2004-08-26 19:14:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
That's why I love Val.
||||||||
VVVVVVVV
Submitted by Val (user info) at 2004-08-26 19:03:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I totally feel you on the whole "Asshole Dad" thing. Except mine didn't drink, or do any drugs or anything. he didn't have an "excuse." But yeah... the whole situation sucks. Just do what you have to do to stay sane and get the hell out of there. And once you're emancipated, he can't do shit to you. Or at least, you don't have to take it.
In a few years, you'll look back on your "childhood" and realize that your father may not have taught you how to be a good person, or the right things to do in life, but at least you'll have the perception to realize how NOT to be, and what NOT to do. And how NOT to treat people.
You're a good kid, Tim.
Keep on being awesome.
Submitted by StonedSilly (user info) at 2004-08-26 17:25:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
whoa.
I'm working on emancipation.
While this isn't construction, we like to get the jobs done as fast as we can and it just slows us down.
I have plenty of marketable skills:
Carpet installation
Cabinetry
Computer Tech.
Web designer
Dry waller
Electrician
Pimp
Pimp
Pimp
Whore
Poledancer
Submitted by ginger_in_mpls (user info) at 2004-08-26 17:21:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Your dad sounds like a complete and total asshole. If you've got any marketable skills, I'd use the drugs and abuse as grounds for emancipation and get your ass the hell away from that douchebag. Working construction while you're stoned is SO FUCKING STUPID!!
Ginger
Submitted by Burn (user info) at 2004-08-26 17:16:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Ha god damn.
Submitted by Kristen (user info) at 2004-08-26 17:14:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by maiorano84 (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:25:17 (#)
Ranking: 2
Hmmmm....
Val's good people.
Submitted by StonedSilly (user info) at 2004-08-26 17:12:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
What's the matter, Eric?
Your jaw blocking your view of the monitor?
How'd it feel to get your ass stomped in pool the other night?
I love you, Eric "The Jaw" Rice.
Submitted by I_Have_a_Kristen_Fetish (user info) at 2004-08-26 17:09:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by Timmah (user info) at 2004-08-26 17:09:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Chin up dude. And it's good you've got those friends around you to keep your head level.
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:56:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by StonedSilly (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:51:24 (#)
Ranking: 0
Any guy who drinks 24 bottles of beer each day, yells at his kid for doing something he asks him to, tries to beat the shit out of said kid, breaks a fucking beer bottle over said kid's head when said kid is 6 is a bad guy.
Thanks though.
================================================================
You describe me way too well.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:55:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
next time take the pipe. it calls your name.... "TIIIIIIMMMM... smoke meeeeeee"
Submitted by StonedSilly (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:51:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Any guy who drinks 24 bottles of beer each day, yells at his kid for doing something he asks him to, tries to beat the shit out of said kid, breaks a fucking beer bottle over said kid's head when said kid is 6 is a bad guy.
Thanks though.
Submitted by sketch9 (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:48:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
First time ive heard of your dad, but it doesnt seem like he's that bad of a guy. a few emotional problems aside that is.
My condolences.
Pretty cool that your dad offers you weed though.
Submitted by StonedSilly (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:42:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks.
I hope our relationship will improve, but for now I'm planning to get out of here and lose contact with him.
Submitted by Badlands (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:37:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Head up, guy. Your old man sounds a lot like mine. And when I was 16, we probably had a similar relationship. I'm a lot older (and maybe a little wiser) now, and I can tell you that I've come to appreciate the nasty old bastard a whole lot more. He helped me to become a good, strong-minded man. Somedday, you may come to feel the same way.
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:27:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Arguing with your parents is the dumbest thing you can do. Trust me.
Submitted by StonedSilly (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:27:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
That's your opinion, bubba.
Fuckin' redneck.
Submitted by bubba69 (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:25:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
holy shit that is boring
Submitted by maiorano84 (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:25:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Hmmmm....
Val's good people.
Submitted by domenad (user info) at 2004-08-26 16:24:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Does your dad break everything he touches? The mower, his computer... I never heard of a guy that broke so much crap