As if two jobs and as much photography as I can possibly squeeze in wasn't enough, I thoroughly enjoy writing short stories. Creative writing. Though my style may not be to the liking of some people, as it's blunt and often from the dark side of humanity. But I don't write for other people. I write for my own pleasure and to maintain good mental health. Here is a sample for you.
TDF
TDF! Typical dysfunctional family. Don't worry, your's is not the only one. Neither is mine. There are lots of them around. Lots of dysfunctional families like the one you are about to get to know. All different and unique in their own way, yet all have similarities we recognize from our own lives, our own situations.
I know; truth is such a sharp knife that most people like to keep it hidden from plain sight. Some even go to great lengths to deny it's mere existence. Truth is not something you want to take lightly. It can be very painful.
Mom was "a spent piece of used jet trash", to use the words of Tom Waits. She'd been working for an airline often referred to as "the flying latrine" because they treated people like shit. This was back in the day when she was young and good looking. Now she was a lot more..."mature" and it took quite a lot more puddy and a wider spatula to cover the wrinkles. A lot of dough went into keeping the face smooth and appear reasonably attractive, even if the hair was still blond, curtesey of her hair..."stylist" through the decades.
Back in her flying days, she was hot and she enjoyed life. On a lay-over in Singapore, she and the flight engineer had had a drink in the airport hotel bar, and that night he'd knocked her up after a bottle or two of Dom Perignon. Loud enough that people in the next-door room had banged on the wall and told them to "keep it down".
She never flew with that flight engineer again and never saw him since. Never even knew she was pregnant, until it was too late.
Back in those days, abortion was out of the question and so her days with the airline were numbered. Back in those days, children "without a daddy" were "illegitimate" and considered "bastards" and nobody wanted a woman who had a bastard child. Except...this one guy who may not have been a fancy airline pilot, but he was good hearted and kind enough that "for the sake of the child", he took her in and offered both her and her child a home. A modest one, but a home never-the-less.
He - "Dad", had worked at Cheminova for 35 years. Same company, same position, 3 1/2 decades. Same sandwich for lunch, for 35 years. Tuna & eggg with a slice of fresh tomato. Maybe a sprig of cilantro on fridays. Always coffee for lunch. Two sugars and three creamers. Don't rock the boat.
Just recently he'd been promoted from janitor, to head janitor. After 30 years of "loyal service" - 30 years of cleaning washrooms and floors, they'd given him a gold plated watch. From Singapore.
They lived in a modest apartment down on 3rd St, and she'd never forgiven him for that. She'd never forgiven him for "having sunk her so low" that she had to give up the fancy life she so believed she deserved. Dreams and aspirations crushed. For this guy?
They'd ended up with two kids, still in the same apartment. More salt in the wound, as far as she was concerned. The daughter was pretty, though. She had mom's pretty face and didn't need any puddy or spatula. Yet!
From an early age, she - the daughter - had always wanted to become a pedicurist in Poughkeepsie, N.Y. Ever since she watched Gene Hackman ask Fernando Rey about picking his feet in "The French Connection". To her, the magic didn't happen in Singapore. It happened in Poughkeepsie.
The daughter had already had her own enocounter with "greatness and fame", curtesey of the local highschool jock. His name was Jack and he now considered himself quite a stud. So she was ready to "take the next big step". Poughkeepsie, here I come.
The son of the family, much to his mother's dismay, was a flaming gay, but, as things turned out, probably the most normal member of the family. He was relatively well balanced. Aimed a little higher than his dad but didn't shoot for the stars, didn't seek "fame and greatness" like his mom and sister. All he wanted, was a normal life. And according to his mentor where he was an apprentice, he was well on his way. His boyfriend was a very likeable guy with his head "screwed on right" and together the two of them were probably more likely to reach their goals, whatever those goals were. But Mom liked her son's boyfriend. "Too bad he's gay, though. And quite a lot younger than me. But age doesn't really much, does it?"
At first, the son had been very hessitant to bring the BF to see his family. But after a somewhat ackward first time, all five of them were there now. Together on Christmas morning.
Sister's suitcase was packed and she way ready to head on out into the world. On her Dad's question how she was going to provide for herself, she'd told him that "I can always become a nude model. There's lots of money in modelling nude". "Like Elizabeth Berkley in Show Girls?" was Dad's follow up question. "that'll bring a lot of rotten tomatoes", he proceeded, initially thinking of the website but his thought instantly drifting to his sandwich. "Don't become like your Mom".
That one just set off her Mom: "If I hadn't married such a looser, I'd be living in a Beverly Hills Mansion, now. Or on a tropical paradise island".
"Ya, I guess you get what you deserve here in life", he shot back. "Clearly you are wrong about that", she snapped. "Or maybe it's just you who get what you deserve, and the rest of us never do".
The boyfriend looked at the son of the family who just rolled his eyes at them. Nothing out of the ordinary.
"And how about you, Mr...Mrs...whatever you are", the mom turned to her son. "What are you going to do with your life"?
"We", he replied, emphasizing the plural, "are just going to get away from all of you, so we can live a normal life. The kind of life that we like, the kind of life that is right for us". He couldn't help but feel a little bit like Billy Crystal in "Soap".
"Oh, that's just dandy. I got a family of lunatics and my daughter and I are the only normal ones". The daughter looked up from the arsenal of fake eyelashes and nails that she'd gotten for Christmas by her highschool jock: "Aren't they just cute?" she inquired as she turned to her brother and his BF. "Have you ever had a girl with long eyelashes?", padlocking the eye contat with the BF.
"Well, I'm not sure if you have noticed, but girls are not really my thing", he replied. "Ya, that's too dam bad", the mother jumped in, "but for all I know, you are probably still more of a man than her Dad is". Dad had learned to just turn a deaf ear to her, over the years. He was still pondering his sandwich. "I need another beer" he said, and went to the garage. On his way back, he grabbed the stiletto hammer from the wall and once back in the apartment, he left it on the counter behind his wife.
"Want a beer?" he asked his son and the BF. "Faxe! Nothing but the best". "No thanks, dad, but if you got any of the turkey lefter over, we'd both love some for the road. We'll have to leave soon". "Help yourself. That turkey breast is bigger than the ones your mom ever had" he offered, with a wink in his eye as he raised his beer in salutation to "his boys".
"Don't be a dick, Dad", the daughter shot out. "Well, isn't that what you are looking for?" he fired back. "I found my dick already", she bounced back. "Trust me, honey bunch, Gene won't be giving you his. He's been a goner for a while now".
The boys looked at each other, just closed their eyes and took a really deep breath. Both knew it was about time to get out of here now, 'cause this was going to go on forever and if anything, it was only going to get even worse and nastier.
"Dad, Mom - thanks for the turkey but we have to get moving. Friends and work are waiting for us north of 49. I'll give you a shout, Dad, when we're in Vancouver tonight. Good luck in Poughkeepsie, Sis". Then they were gone. Out of there.
"Too bad you didn't get to shag him, huh?" the Dad said to his wife, referring to the sons BF.
"Would the two of you just shut the fuck up. SFU"! The daughter was just about to blow a fuse by now.
"Good news. My daughter is finally going to university". Mom looked excited at her daughter who were out on the balcony blowing smoke by now. The daughter looked at her mom with nothing but pitty and just shook her head.
"Jack and I are going to Manaus for a holiday" she announced to both of them and neither of them in particular. "Going back, we're going to find a place in Poughkeepsie and start our new life there".
"Well, I guess Jack gets to "feed the piranha" in Mamouse", then". "Manaus, Dad. Manaus! It's in Brazil". "Well, I guess that better than "pelting the beaver" in Vancouver".
"The two of you are just perfect for each other", she told her parents, "so I'll leave now, if you don't mind. I'll be meeting him at the Jewish deli and from there we'll go to the airport."
With the kids gone, the two of them were sitting there are the table looking at each other for a while: "You can be such a prick", she told him.
"You can let your doctor prick your finger but don't let him finger your prick", he replied. "I know I was never good enough for you in the first place, but life is never fair. Whoever told you that was lying. We're all just going to have to play with the cards we've been dealt".
And so the family spread again for all winds, each pursuing their own goals, dreams and aspirations, none of them agreeing with the other's choice, all well knowing that they would all meet up again at the next family gathering, to confirm that family or not, by blood or otherwise, sometimes you will just have to close your ears and eyes to how everybody else wants you to live your life, because this is your life...and nobody else's.
(The hammer is still lying on the counter.)
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