A week goes by without incident. No tumultuous affairs, no whirlwind romances. It’s finally time to head out to New York. Needless to say, my parents aren’t exactly thrilled with my decision to still go. But the old Olivia would have jumped ship. I need to show my sister that I’ve changed. I’m much more responsible and dearly love my family. I can not cancel this trip if I ever want her to talk to me again.
I go over to my parents’ house to try to make nice. They live in a boating community that is on the verge of being its own world. The people are quite different from anyone you’ve ever met. Not high class, but not ghetto. Just its own area. There are Indian burial grounds here, Ku Klux Klan remnants, and houses that are still set up to receive booze during prohibition. If you’ve never made it to the islands that are off the shores of Ohio, you are honestly missing out on some amazing views and very interesting history.
“Tom?” I sweetly say to my stepfather. And what follows this question I’m seriously not making up. This is really how we’ve talked to each other since I was old enough to comprehend all the different ways you could use the work “Fuck”. You’ll find that it has become a large part of my vocabulary, much to the dismay of my religious relatives. Is it still a bad word when you use it the same way that you’d use the word “car”?
“I know you’re not working today and I was just wondering if you could take me to the airport this afternoon.”
“I can’t believe that you’re still fucking going! I don’t even want to talk to you. Do you have a death wish? Do you have any idea how fucking stupid you are? Do you know what happens to people that are dumb enough to go to a shit-hole like New York City by the fucking shit-hole dwellers that live there? They rape women in broad daylight in Central Park. Now with all these terror attacks! You’re going to come back here with some sort of disease and give it to all of us. I refuse to drive you to your certain death!”
God. What a drama queen. I guess I can take that Oscar-worthy monologue as a firm “NO!”. OK, I did not plan this well and I know it. I’m supposed to be getting on a plane in mere hours and I don’t have a ride.
2 comments:
That was quite a response from Tom. :-)
LOL...i cracked up when i read the part about whether or not "f**k" is still a bad word when you use it in the same way as "car". i've often wondered that myself...it truly is my favorite swear word (much to my husband's dismay).
still enjoying the book.
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