Fathers Are Evil

I believe I mentioned this in a previous post, but if I didn't, my father left when I was 17. Actually, I was almost eighteen - I would have been in about a month. It was late November, just a couple days before December.

We had almost no warning. I suppose there were signs, but none that we recognized (unfortunately) until it was far too late. I came home and didn't see my father around, so I figured he was working (he was a cab driver). He'd been sick, but he was stubborn as hell and I just figured he'd gone into work regardless of what my mother'd said.

Well, since that time, he's fucked us sideways more times than sixties rock star has hairs on his head. He's pried us for cash numerous times, lied to us, kept from us money that should have been rightfully ours (at least in part) on a number of occasions, and even stolen from us. I used to know him. He used to be a great guy. Now he's just another ass hole who likes to use my Social Security number and ruin my credit.

Turns out he was supposedly coming home recently. He lied, as usual. The bastard. Now I've got outstanding charges from a state all the way on the other side of the country - a state that I've never even been to.

He had the nerve to call to find out how I've been yesterday and what I was going to do when I was done with school. I chatted for about three seconds, and I think he got that I was giving him the cold shoulder pretty well. Regardless, I just hope he doesn't fucking call back, the prick. I'll just ignore his fucking calls.

You know, I'll be the first to admit it: I'm lazy. I'm not as active as I should be, and I certainly slack off on things that I should be doing. I'm a procrastinator. I admit this openly. I'm not proud of it, but there it is.

But my father? He's left us, stolen from and lied to us, cheated us...has he no shame? Has he no morals left in that thick-ass skull of his? Even I'm not THAT bad. I never thought I would hear (or see, rather) myself say this, but I am ashamed to be his son.