Free Sh*t My Dad Says by Justin Halpern Page B

ever, ever cursed at my dad. I don’t know if my dad was angry or shocked, but he got stern real quick.
    “What is your fucking point?” he said.
    “My point is it was humiliating to sit there with some woman that’s probably used to dating doctors and models and whatever the fuck else!”
    Then came the line that sent my dad into a frenzy.
    “She’s out of my league! It was humiliating!”
    My dad looked down at the floor and mumbled quietly to himself “out of your league?” over and over, like he was Indiana Jones trying to figure out if what a weird tribal person had told him right before he died was a clue. Then he exploded.
    “This is complete fucking bullshit!” he screamed.
    At that point I left the living room and tried to hide in the hallway so I could still listen.
    “Out of your league?! What fucking league are you talking about?! You are a man, she is a fucking woman! That is all that matters, goddamn it!”
    After that I couldn’t make out the yelling, but a few minutes later Evan stormed past me. I peered into the living room and could see my dad felt bad about what had happened. Normally after arguments, he wore a red-faced look of conviction that you see on famous world leaders addressing a hostile United Nations. This time he just looked sad. I went to bed, not wanting to agitate him.
    Nobody talked about what had happened those next few days. I figured the argument had passed. Then, my dad came home from work about a week later and told Evan and me to get in the car, that we were going to dinner at Black Angus, which, in my opinion, was the Kansas City Royals of steak houses. Yes, it technically qualifies as a franchise, but it’s not worth getting excited about.
    “Black Angus?” I replied, a little disappointed.
    “Don’t be an asshole,” my dad said.
    We drove to Black Angus, where we sat down in a dark booth with cracked leather seats, and my dad ordered three porterhouse steaks, his favorite cut. I had no idea what my brother was thinking, but I was wondering why in the hell we were at Black Angus, given that this was not a holiday and there was no apparent cause for celebration. Generally, steak is eaten by my family only on special occasions.
    My dad exchanged a few pleasantries, asked us how we were doing, how our week was, and then, as the waitress set down our steaks in front of us, he said, “I want to tell you a story about the time I get mono from a stewardess.”
    He dove into a long, convoluted story about meeting some stewardess, how they “spent some time together,” and what followed.
    “I told everyone I got mono from this stewardess. You know why? Because I couldn’t believe a woman that attractive would be with a guy like me, so much that I was bragging about getting goddamned mono. Then I went into the hospital with fucking Guillain-Barré syndrome, and it was a whole mess, and I almost died. Anyway, my point is: It took me a long, long time to realize that I was worth a damn to women. You don’t have to brag about getting mono.”
    The three of us sat quietly for a moment before my dad called the waitress over to our table and said, “Let’s see a dessert menu, I’m feeling frisky.”
    Evan and I glanced at each other, unsure if we were supposed to comment on our dad’s anecdote.
    “Gee, Dad, that’s a great story,” I said sarcastically, trying to stifle my laughter.
    Evan started giggling, which sent me into a fit of laughter. My dad shook his head.
    “Well, you both can go fuck yourselves,” he said. “I’m trying to impart some fucking wisdom about women.”
    This only made the two of us laugh harder, to the point that Evan was almost unable to breathe and nearby patrons looked sympathetically at my dad, pitying the man who had to suffer two such inconsiderate sons. But he just started chuckling as well.
    “As long as you two jerk-offs are happy, I guess that’s all that matters,” he said, as the waitress returned with the dessert menu.

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