Conversations With My Step-Dad

My step-dad is a lot of things; intelligent, funny, big-hearted, and pretty kickass with the air-guitar. My favorite thing about my step-dad is that he can start and hold a conversation about anything, and move fluidly through several other topics at the same time without losing the thread. At first you’ll think we’re talking about cars. Whoops, wrong, we’re discussing the hunting licenses available in the area. Boom, on to the subject of getting a job at the local cafe. Screeeech, just kidding, now it’s whether Michigan or North Carolina have the best economic benefits. So on and so forth over the course of the conversation. Most of which happen around two in the morning.

More than likely, my step-dad will drop some bombs into the topic we’re covering. He’ll slip a line in at the most sudden time, and it will just snowball from there. Here are some snippets and one-liners from our most recent talk this morning:

“I had myself a Camaro when I was your age. That was a bitchin’ car. Bitchin’, I tell you!”

 “You know, back in the day the government would actually pay people to move out of Michigan because the economy got so bad. My dumb ass moved out before I found out about that cash waterfall!”

“The best part about living in the trailer park was when all the hookers and drug dealers would come out at night to do their thing. More often than not, a deal went wrong. We called it ‘Friday Night Fights’. Pop out a lawn chair and grab a beer!”

“Remember what I said about that Camaro? Yeah, if I was driving that son-of-a-pup around a group of good-looking gals, you bet your ass I had a date that night.”

“I asked the owner of that cafe about job openings. You can just apply online! Hole-in-one, baby!”

“Man, do I love to golf. You know what’s great after a game of golf? More golf! Oh, right, we were talking about buying you a pair of shoes. Man, I bought some great golf shoes yesterday…”

“I’ll just sprinkle some deer corn around the backyard and sit back with my rifle and let the bullets fly. Them sons of bitches won’t know what hit ’em. But I’ll know. My bullets!”

“I was driving a sweet car when I was around your age. Women were flocking like seagulls wherever I parked that bad boy. They must have thought I was a pretty good-looking dude with how much they stuck around. Wait a second…it better not have been because of the fucking car! Eh, it’s alright. It’s not like they were that attractive, anyway.”

Ah, yes, the sweet sound of a conversation staying on track. Believe me, there’s more where that came from. Hope you enjoyed getting a glimpse into my daily life with this nutjob. 

As always,

-Sara

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