Fathers Kindness To Strangers
My parents divorced and I ended up moving away from home to live with my father as a teenager. I got a full time job to start building a new life for myself in a new town, started paying rent and eventually bought a new car which I managed to pay off.
My relationship with my father was better than ever, we’d go to sporting events or a concert together…since we both worked a lot these things were few and far between but good for the soul.
I had a couple bad dating relationships that didn’t go anywhere, but life was good.
My dad would bring a friend to our home from time to time, usually someone down n out that needed someplace to crash for a day or so.
At first it was kinda cool they might cook us a great meal or we’d all share a bottle of whiskey or just hang out.
But things took a turn for the worse, his friend turned out to be a drug addicted alchoholic with a pretty bad mean streak and he started talking smack to me in my own home…WTF?! The first guy wound up going to jail but my father brought in a replacement soon after…actually moved the guy in and he was friendly with my dad but a real a+@ hole towards me. I thought my dad might be a homo, but I never caught them in bed together or anything like that. So one after the other…year after year he moves some drunk or drug addict into our home. Time and time again I’ve told him I hate it, I even threw one guy out and called the cops on his drunk @ss, my father just brought him right back. This last dude loves to walk up and belch in my face then stands in the kitchen and burps like 15 times in a row and I’m always finding his used crack bags or some pot in the dryer on laundry day.
That’s my gripe, I could go on and on but I’ll stop here.
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