today i saw dad.

my head feels sticky from drinking too much lemonade and listening to metric during a 2-hour lecture about john cage and yoko ono. i want to hula hoop in the backyard but the neighbor is hanging out the window smoking cigs. dad just showed up in the driveway. he noticed the new dent in my car on the driver’s side door, which now opens about two feet and makes a loud metallic scraping sound.

dad; ohh ******.
me; hmm…
dad; i wish you had a passion.
me; mm.
dad; even something small, like keeping your car nice.
me; i guess.
dad; you float around doing nothing except for running into things.
me; i do stuff.
dad; not anything that takes effort.
me; hmm.
dad; i’ll pray for you.
me; oh.
dad; after august, you’re going to start paying your own car insurance. budget for it.
me; ahh.
dad; come over saturday morning for an oil change.
me; and cartoons.
dad; is your phone fixed?
me; maybe.
dad; you don’t know?
me; naw.
dad; i tried to call you twice.
me; why are those people staring at me?
(okay seriously, this little korean couple walking their dog had completely stopped and were turned around, gawking at me. christ, get on with your life.)
dad; they’re not.
me; oh.
dad; fix your phone.
me; okay.

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