Let me backtrack a little bit. I had lunch with my father earlier this week. He was in my neighborhood,so naturally he called & asked if I wanted to grab a bite to eat. Normally I would have declined,made up some excuse-such as "Sorry. On my way to a Bible burning ceremony." Or some other illicit activity he would think that I would participate in. Unfortunately I was hungry, & at that moment my other alternatives were 3 teaspoons of peanut butter,one piece of bread,half a box of Booberry cereal,or a questionable frozen steak. (I always put off going grocery shopping till the very last minute.) So,I hesitantly accepted his offer.
In retrospect, peanut butter & steak would have been the wiser choice.
To say that my father and I have varying opinions on things would be an understatement. We are polar opposites in every conceivable way. He's religious. I'm...not. He thinks that homosexuality is an illness,a spiritual plague of some sort,which inevitably (upon death) would result in burning "in a lake of fire."
You can see now as to my lunch date hesitation.
I've never been close with my father. Since I can recall,I've avoided him like the black plague. For many reasons (which I won't delve into.) Actually,the black plague would have been welcomed at many points in my childhood. He was an exceptional provider for my family and I. Monetarily. Sharp contrast in my parental figures. Thankfully my mother more than made up for his shortcomings. She was perfection personified.
Anyhow,fast forwarding decades later. Our waitress seated us next to a window overlooking the lake.
The setting was mind-numbingly tranquil. There I was,sitting across from him. My father. The man that at so many times in my life I had feared (partly because he had been such a strict disciplinarian.) Now-present day,he's incredibly feeble. Frail. A strong gust of wind could knock him over. His short term memory, questionable. More than likely an on slot of dementia or Altz.
The waitress had already taken our order as my father relayed to me how to distinguish a great restaurant from a mediocre one. "The napkins" he said. "Look at the napkins." He then unfolded his napkin that looked as if it had been masterfully formed ever so delicately into the shape of,what appeared to be a swan."Linen napkins." He approvingly exclaimed as he placed it onto his lap. "Linen. Napkins."
Our waitress finally brought our drinks over to us. As he stirred his coffee,he recounted his time in the Navy,as well as hypothesising as to why the world was "going to hell"-which segwayed into when he had "found god."(A misplaced deity?) He weaved in and out of topics as my mind wandered off. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism. Or self imposed,selective A.D.D.
Our waitress sauntered by several times,asking if we had needed anything. "More bread?" I was thinking more along the lines of a fully loaded revolver (with the safety off), preferably aimed at my temple,in lieu of the rolls. I chuckled to myself at the mere notion as I stared out the window. There was a lone boat out on the water,probably 50 yards out. I watched the man who appeared to be alone,cast out his fishing line.
Not another soul around him.
Lucky bastard.
The strikingly beautiful waitress who had been waiting on the table adjacent to us caught my attention.I swear her cleavage had been beckoning me. She slightly resembled an ex of mine. So, yet again my mind trailed off. Before I knew it,our waitress had returned & asked if we had wanted a refill on our drinks. I declined as I nodded my head in acknowledgement of the story my father was recalling. Some story which included the words "burning." "Eternity." & "repent." The story I had pretended to have been listening to the entire time as the waitress poured him another steaming hot cup of coffee. I watched the steam,which was perfectly aligned with his face,dissipate into the air. The illusion of eye contact.
"Yup. I'm listening dad. So. Engrossed."
My sister texting me info on where to meet for her birthday the next day was the catalyst for this great revelation of my father's. I replied to my sisters text as my father took another few sips of his coffee & fumbled for his wallet. There is about a decade age difference between my sisters and I,which he started to point out. "Yes dad. I'm aware." The waitress came by once again & asked if we would like dessert,or if we had needed anything else. My father then gestured for the check.
Dessert? I'd prefer a cyanide capsule. Or,perhaps a noose constructed out of those fancy linen napkins.
"Yeah,you're nearly a decade apart from your sisters. Know why?" For some reason I assumed it was a rhetorical question,until he asked me again. I was suspicious of the tone of which he was asking,yet I still responded. "No dad. Enlighten me." He then smiled,as if he had just given the punchline to a dirty joke. "You...were a mistake." He then elaborated & said that I probably wouldn't even be here now,(as in EXISTING)-if a certain baseball game had been televised. So,basically he just revealed that my mother and he had fucked,simply because there was nothing else to watch on tv.
Copulate. Or,watch Ed Sullivan.
"Waitress. I'll take that cynanide capsule now. PLEASE."
I know that he didn't say it with malicious intent. It sounded more like an odd confession. It took me a minute or so to respond. "Really. Thanks for sharing this with me dad." (Loosely translated): "thanks for....validating the tone I knew had been set for my life."
We headed out into the parking lot. Neither of us spoke. As he made his way over to his truck,he looked over his shoulder at me & said what he alway's says to me at the conclusion of a visit.
"Bye,daughter. I'll pray for you."
As I drove home I thought to myself. "There are a few lessons to be learned here."
One. Always check the caller i.d. on your phone before answering it.
Two. When asked a question you probably don't want to know the answer to,create a diversion of some sort in lieu of responding to said question. Drop to the floor,curl up in the fetal position & pretend to go into a grand maul seizure. Or. Something a little less dramatic.
Three. Acquire a taste for peanut butter & steak.
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