I got a call saturday afternoon from my mudder informing me that her and my fodder are divorcing after over 35 years of marriage.
Without going intio too much details, and please keep in mind that I love both my parents equally, my fodder is a fucking jerk and it's all his fault.
Let me run you by what happened.
I wake up at my usual hour on Saturday, about 1PM EST.
Two hours later, I arise from bed, get in my car and head to the Dunkin Donuts. The one where you have to instruct them what "light and sweet" means everytime you're there.
Sure they remember what you look like, they remember your name, your fucking shirt you wore ten months ago....
But just because you're there every day of your life, and 99% of the time you hand the person back the coffee because it's neither light nor sweet, just like you did the fucking day before to the SAME fucking person, doesn't mean that they are expected to know what "light and sweet" means without a daily education.
The place should be called Dunkin Retards.
I walk in there every single day, they have my coffee ready before I even reach the counter. I ignore their "good morning" bullshit, while I tear off the lid to inspect my coffee. I'm usually not a prick about things, I've had meals where they brought me absolute shit, but you better not fuck with my coffee.
So I look at the coffee, notice the dark tone that can only be atributed to not enough cream. I hand it back to them and state that they've failed me. Just like they did yesterday and the day before.
They roll there eyes (as they did the day before) as if this is something new. I scream to myself "THIS IS NOT FUCKING BRAIN SURGERY! IF YOU CAN'T MAKE A FUCKING CUP OF COFFEE, YOU ARE NOT AN ASSET TO THE HUMAN RACE AND NEED TO CHOP OFF YOUR OWN HEAD IN SHAME, LIKE A SAMARAI!!!!"
So I get in my car all pissed off, but slowly waking. As I'm driving back home, I'm noticing everthing I ran over on my way there. I'm dangerous when I drive beforre coffee.
I get home, check my messages, and hear this from my mom. "Jon, this is Mom. Listen, don't get upset but your father and I have split up. We're both OK, I'll talk to you later."
WHAT THE FUCK? This is all I need. I got enough bullshit in my life that I have to deal with. Why this? Why now?
Maybe if I was functional I could seperate my troubles with other people's troubles. Realize that this is something between my mudder and my fodder, and just accept that there's nothing I can do but be there for them both.
Well, I'm not functional, I cannot seperate my troubles with other people's, and I cannot accept the fact that me freaking out on everybody who picks up the phone won't help the situation.
So I hang up the phone and call my brudda, the cop. The guy who makes "Fuck the Police" by NWA, my favorite song.
I call his stupid ass. He picks up, knowing it's me from his caller ID, answers his phone by stating "what?"
I devote a good 5 minutes on how you don't answer a phone by saying "what?" He could care less, he tries fruitlessly to get me off the phone by saying "I'm really busy."
"I don't give a flying fuck how busy you are! Go harass minorities later, what the fuck is going on with mom and dad."
"Long story." he says. "Call mom on her cell phone, I gotta' go."
"Fuck you too, Robocop." I say before he hangs up, and heads off to arrest some jaywalkers.
Now, I want to do some info-gathering before I call mom. It's better that I know what's going on, because I know she won't fess up. So I decide to call my Uncle Dougie. This is my dad's brother.
I get on with old "Hunk o' Unk" and he confirms that he heard about the split, from his sister who heard it from my mudder.
I'm not going to get into details about what was the event that caused my mudder to gather her shit and split, let's just say my fodder is a jackass. The guy drives me crazy. He's one of those guys that would prefer to get stoned to death, before he would ever admit that was wrong. He's always been a jerk to my mom, but she's had enough. Sadly, the "Unk" didn't see it that way.
First thing he said was "don't think it's only your dad's fault, your mudder is to blame too?"
I'm like "what the fuck are you talking about? My mother is a saint."
This is what my uncle replied "No she isn't, the last few years she's been gaining weight, and...."
"You're mother, she's gotten fat over the years."
"You can't expect your father to be content with staying with a woman who's been gaining so much weight..."
I remember who the fuck I'm talking to, and hang up the phone. A little background on my uncle. He's been married four times, has a 1920's mentality of women, and is as fat as hell. Not somebody's opinion I really take to heart, but someone I always check in with just to make sure I know what NOT to end up like.
I called Robocop and left a message to get my mom's cell phone number. Officer Nipple has yet to call me back.
I finally find my mom's cell phone number and call her.
"What the hell's going on, mom???"
I know I'm not helping the situation when I get this excited, but I'm an excitable guy, I can't help it. I don't know how else to do it. I'm awful with stress.
Anyways, I ask her what happened, she said "do we really have to get into 'what happened'?"
I instructed her that not only, yes, we indeed had to, but I already knew what happened.
She told me that she spent the night in a motel. I got really depressed when I heard that. I hate thinking of my mother all alone in some motel. She told me not to worry becuse a few of her friends have already asked her to stay with them, and she's going to take one of them up on their offer.
So I said "what the fuck is dad's problem?"
"Don't say that, he's still your father."
"I don't give a fuck who he is. Stop defending him, he's an asshole. How the fuck could he do this to you?"
"He never was very nice" she says. "Even to you, he was treated you like dirt, while making your brother out to be a hero."
"Stop changing the subject, this isn't about me." I snapped.
She said "You know what it's like living with him, he's awful. Now after this incident.......I've had enough."
She forgot that she was talking to her son, and began saying things that have been going through her mind all night like "How a 64 year old man needs to feed his ego like that, I'll never understand."
Fuck it, I'm sick of keeping secrets. My dad met some bitch on-line, and my mom caught him talking to her on the phone. That's on top of not doing a damn thing around the house, and treating her like shit. Now you know. Fuck you.
Anyways, she went on to say "your dad's going to deny that. He's going to asy that he was talking to his friend, don't belive him." She's moved on a bit from the 'he's still your father, you need to respect him' shit she was dropping earlier.
I assured her that I know dad's a pro at twisting around the facts to make himself look good. The worst part of that is I truely think he believes his own lies.
I said "I have no plans to talk to dad. All he's going to do is lie to me, and I'm not in the mood to hear it."
At this time her cell phone was cutting out (she was driving) and said I'm going to lose you soon.
"You OK? I asked.
"I'm fine" She lied.
She cut out and I lost her. I called her later and she was indeed staying at one of her best friend's house, sounding in better spirits.
I was thinking about calling my dad, but after thinking that the only thing I really have to say to him is "WHY ARE YOU SUCH A FUCKING PIECE OF DOG SHIT?" So I opted to conserve my energy.
I think the earliest promise I ever made to myself was to not end up like my dad. I mean, I feel sorry for him most of all. The guy makes dumb decisions and just doesn't know any better.
He's got problems, depression mostly, and he deals with that in ways that I don't understand.
I remember seeing "Monster's Ball" a little while ago, and at the end, when Billy Bob Thorton is putting his father in an old folk's home, the lady processing his father's admission asks "you must really love your father" as to which Billy Bob replys "Not really. But......he is my father."
Now my dad isn't nearly as fucked up as the father in the movie. And I do love him. I don't like him though, and honestly I don't think he ever liked me. We've never gotten along. But......he is my father. I don't get to pick one.
My brother's wedding is coming up, and me and my father are doing the stag party so I HAVE to talk to him soon. I really don't want to, but what the fuck am I gonna' do? Call off the stag? That would make Robocop cry.
Well, if there is one benefit about my parents splitting up it's that I won't have to feel odd anymore when I tell someone that my parents are still together. Growing up I was left out of all the "my mom lives here, and my dad lives here...." talk. Now I can fit in with 85% of the kids my age and younger, who are from a broken home.
Geeesssh, no wonder I always hated Papa Roach. I couldn't relate to them. But now.......ahhhh, they still suck.