Thursday I was going to work as usual. For some reason, however, My Fucking Father was up. This is the second time -- the second Thursday, actually -- that he was up. They went to the minivan as if they were going to work. I won't say they were going to The Store because, I assume, it's closed now.
The first Thursday I ran into them as I was leaving they said nothing. This past Thursday, while I was heading through the front door, My Fucking Father said, "Did you wash your face?" Goddamn ... he's always been on my case about washing my face or brushing my teeth. This has gone on as long as I can remember. And I usually don't groom myself, OK? I'd rather get up and go straight to school or work. Why? Because my appearance won't mean a fucking thing if I can't get to school or work on time and if I can't do the school work or work work in a professional, cogent manner. What the fuck does straightening my hair have anything to do with it?
So I sigh and get my ass to work. But no, My Fucking Father isn't going to let this go. That night, we were having dinner. He was leaning back in his chair, which is a sign that he's going to say something to me, something I won't like to hear, something he knows I won't like to hear, but is going to say anyway.
I won't paraphrase. I can't paraphrase, but the insulting, bullying things he said would break me to tears. He said that I have to -- I'm 36 years old, but I have to -- brush my teeth and wash my face at night and shower every day. How condescending, how hurtful. Goddamn you. I'm a grown-ass man and here you are making ultimatums on me? Goddamn you!
The fucker tested me the next day, this morning. I didn't think he'd wake up; I thought he was bluffing, blowing smoke up my ass. But as I was getting dressed (without washing my face or brushing my teeth) I hear My Fucking Father come upstairs. Shit. Worse off, while I was in my bedroom (the one that no longer has my bed because My Fucking Father took it and gave it to Grandmother) he actually knocked on the wall, like he usually does when he calls me out for dinner, and asks me, "Did you wash your face yet?"
I am offended by his belittling comment. And then I was mad at myself for not being quick on my feet and lying. Instead, I said, "No." Fuck! "Well go and wash your face then!" My Fucking Father replied. And then he warned me, "And you didn't shower last night, either." Were you listening upstairs, asshole? I didn't shower last night because I fell asleep last night. Because I work like a dog now. Something I learned from you, you musty asshole.
It got worse when I got back from work. I was taking a shit when the fucker knocked on my door and said something about taking a shower. Goddamn him. I thought my brother needed help taking out the Porsche, but now I have to take a shower?
I walk out to see what the fuck is going on with the Porsche. I ask Mother what My Fucking Father said and she tells me I have to shower because she's mad. And then My Fucking Father comes inside and tells me to take a shower. And pitiful, scared old me, I take a goddamn shower, even though I don't want one.
How long is this going to go on? Is My Fucking Father going to bully me like this from now on?
You know, ever since my parents threw Grandmother out, I had a growing fear that I would have to leave the house because they would be riding my ass. My worst fears have come true.
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