Free Sh*t My Dad Says by Justin Halpern

need to stop saying to people it’s your birthday.”
    Joey looked confused and horrified, like a stripper bursting out of a cake only to realize she’s been accidentally delivered to a baby shower.
    My dad knelt down to Joey’s level and added, “It is not. Your. Birthday.”
    The next sound I heard was a high-pitched squeal coming from Joey’s mouth. Then tears began streaming down his face and he ran away, arms at his sides, dangling like two limp strands of overcooked spaghetti.
    Completely ignoring the disapproving glances from nearby family members, my dad got up from his crouch and turned to me. “Hey, it’s a tough realization it ain’t your birthday, but he’s a better man for it,” he said with satisfaction.

On My Bloody Nose
    “What happened? Did somebody punch you in the face?!…The what? The air is dry? Do me a favor and tell people you got punched in the face.”
    On the Democratic System
    “We’re having fish for dinner…. Fine, let’s take a vote. Who wants fish for dinner?…Yeah, democracy ain’t so fun when it fucks you, huh?”
    On Remaining a Gentleman No Matter the Situation
    “I personally would never go to a prostitute, but if you’ve paid money for some strange, that doesn’t mean you can act like an idiot once you get it.”
    On Getting My Own Apartment Even Though I Attend College 20 Minutes from Home
    “You want your independence, huh?…Every time you tell me about your independence, I just replace that word with the word money . Then it’s easy to say no.”
    On Finding Out I Tried Marijuana
    “Pretty great, right?…Really? Well, we differ in opinion then. Don’t tell your mom I said that, though. Tell her I yelled at you and called you a moron. Actually, don’t tell her anything. See, now I’m paranoid, and I didn’t even smoke any.”
    On Giving Up a 450-Foot Home Run in My First College Baseball Game
    “Jesus. That wasn’t even a home run, that was a fucking space experiment that should be written about in science journals or something.”
    On Attending the Student Film Festival Where My First Short Film Played
    “I enjoyed it thoroughly…. I know which one was yours goddamn it, it was the one with the car…. Well shit, I thought that one was yours, so I left after. Don’t bust my balls, that festival was like sitting through a three-hour prostate exam.”
    On My Responsibility to Do Chores
    “You’re a grown man in college, but you still live in my goddamned house. Huh. That sounds way shittier for you when I say it out loud.”
    On Getting a Job as a Cook at Hooters
    “You, my good man, are not as dumb as I first fucking suspected.”
    On Meeting My First Girlfriend, Who Worked at Hooters
    “I thought she’d have bigger breasts. I’m just being honest. That’s not a bad thing or a good thing, that’s just a thing I thought.”

You Have to Believe You’re Worth a Damn
    “You are a man, she is a fucking woman! That is all that matters, goddamn it!”

    I am not the first Halpern son to live at home in his late twenties. In fact, my two older brothers, Dan and Evan, did so as well. Evan is nine years older than me, and, along with Dan, is the product of my dad’s first marriage. Evan is pretty much the nicest, most considerate human being you could ever meet. Plus, he just might be the only person to graduate from Humboldt State University, in Northern California, who has never smoked marijuana. After college, Evan wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, and he spent the next few years working various jobs in various cities. But at twenty-eight, he found himself living at home with me, my dad, and my mom, who raised him since he was seven and who he considers his mother. It wasn’t exactly a high point in Evan’s life.
    At the time, I was going to college at San Diego State, also living at home, and working at the Hooters in Pacific Beach, a nearby beach town. My best friend, Dan, and I had applied for jobs there a year earlier as a joke, and lo and