Wednesday, October 6, 2010


The summer after 7th grade my mom had a relative stay with us from Denmark. He was the most annoying, obnoxious, sexist piece of shit I had ever met in my 12 years on earth. Mom kicked me out of my room for the duration of his stay and I had to sleep on the couch so that our worldly guest had a decent room to himself.

She also decided that it was our responsibility to show him the U.S. and we embarked on the road trip of all road trips. We went to Phoenix, Death Valley, Vegas, etc. All the while I had to share hotel rooms with both parents and this chain smoking alcoholic idiot. Mom made sure to get rooms that allowed smoking and the two of them had me inhaling clouds of the shit for two weeks straight. On July 4th, we were at some cheesy restaurant and this relative, named Lech believe it or not, was hitting on our waitress. I was at my wits end so I gave him some sage advice.

You should tell her that you're scum.

Scum? What is it?

It means you're a really great guy. It's like a special nickname.

I try.

So he tells her that he would really like to take her out after her shift and that she should feel comfortable with him because he is scum. She said simply: "I'll bet you are," set down our ice cream, and walked away. Lech was furious but I was pretty happy with myself. Of course I humiliated Mom and it made the rest of our time with him difficult but I didn't care. I wrote scathing letters to my friends back home about Mom and Lech and couldn't wait to talk about it when I got back. One of the letters I wrote was entirely in rhyme and I would do nearly anything to get my hands on it now.

As it turned out, when I got home I didn't have anyone to laugh or joke with. The friends I thought I had were gone.

to be continued...

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