Made Dad Proud

Reads: 165  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 07, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 07, 2016



If you ask me, I think it’s fair to say that we all like to please our parents and make them proud of us. Once in a while we like to do something right to let them brag a little. I know I’m always getting my Mother and Father pissed off at me so I try to throw in something good so they don’t go out of their minds completely. It’s the least I should be able to do since they fed me when I was a kid, put clothes on my back and continued to worry about me. Not that I wanted them to worry about me, you understand, but they did. Especially my Mother which, believe me, is sometimes a big pain in the ass. But, what can I do knowing she really means well. She really does.

Many years ago when I was in the army and had a three day pass after a few months of wondering if I was going to live through it or not. I hitchhiked my way home which took up about half of my leave; and, before saying hello to my Mother and Father, I was on the phone trying to get a date for the night. You gotta know, I was without a girl for months and months which often seemed longer, and was horny as all get out. I was tired of dating my five fingers and worried about wearing out my hand. So I rang up Sarah who was busy, and Ruthie who was taken, and Dorit who was in love; and it seemed to me like every soldier in the army was on leave at the same time. I even began thinking of hiring a prostitute but the ones I wanted I couldn’t afford and the ones I could afford I didn’t want. I was in a dilemma. Finally, in desperation, I called Uzi to fix me up with somebody, anybody, ‘cause I began worrying about my health.

Good ole reliable Uzi who knew more girls than the Beatles had songs told me not to worry ‘cause he knew, intimately knew, I must say, a girl who was a sure thing and no need wasting time to feed her, or bore her with bullshit stories. “Just do your thing,” Uzi told me, “and I’ll meet you a half hour afterwards and we’ll have some beers and some laughs.” Uzi, good as his word, set it all up.

So if you’re still with me, I finally found her address after asking a dozen people and getting about six directions almost right, I rang her bell, doorbell that is, and she opened the door wearing only her underwear. After staring and being speechless at the same time, and feeling like a sailor on pay day entering the harbor of Bangkok for shore leave, I introduced myself, and must admit, she probably had the best-proportioned body I ever had the privilege of seeing. But, unfortunately, from her neck up, a good plastic surgeon could be busy for a long time; and, she didn’t help herself at all by putting on lipstick from her nose that forgot to end, to her chin. I mean I didn’t think she used a mirror to see what she did to herself. Her eyes could have been beautiful, if I could have seen them. But they happened to be covered with black shadows on both lids and continued north.

But without focusing too much on her face, I must admit, I was happy I was there and the three minutes I spent with her in the bedroom was fantastic. If you must know, it took me longer to undress and dress again than it did for the reason I undressed and dressed.

After I was dressed, she said to me, “Would you buy me a pizza? None of the guys ever take me anywhere. I always have to go by myself and I would like to eat with somebody. So please?”

Well, with a story like that, how could I refuse. So, I figured I’d get a pizza where no one knew me and I didn’t know anyone. It would surely be close so we could walk. I picked out a place that I heard about but never ate at, and we walked in together. She said “Hi guys”, and it seemed everyone knew her, and she knew everybody. The place was full wall to wall, and the guys were giving me funny looks like who’s this weirdo. But since I didn’t know them, it was okay.

We sat down, drank red wine and ate pizza. This poor girl was probably never shown any table manners, like she was brought up in the Amazons. Her head was in the plate and she’s gobbling the pizza like it was her first meal for a week. But she was happy and laughing, and kidding with all the guys around, talking loud, belching, and really enjoying herself. I must admit to you though, she looked a mess, not only with the make-up, but the jewelry, oversized and garish; and the dress was cut down to her belly and made of shiny satin. I mean you almost needed sunglasses to look at her. But she was happy.

I felt sorry for her; really, ‘cause she wasn’t bad in any way. She was only trying to please all the guys and to be cared for and loved, like all of us want. But she didn’t know how to go about it, and you could see she wasn’t taught anything about human behavior and Uzi and me and all the guys laughing at her were just taking advantage of her. I truly felt kinda shitty sitting there thinking about it.

While I was thinking the thoughts, the door opened and out of the corner of my eye I saw four adults walk into the pizza joint and I almost fell off my chair ‘cause two of them were my mother and father. The other two were both doctor friends of my parents. I felt my face get red and I didn’t know how to bury myself under the table but I was trying, and as they passed the table I was sitting at, I heard one of the doctors say, “Isn’t that your son?”

And my Father looked at me, I mean right through me and said, “No”.


© Copyright 2018 Lenny Lowengrub. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Non-Fiction Short Stories

Booksie 2018 Poetry Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Lenny Lowengrub

A Flying Lesson

Short Story / Non-Fiction


Short Story / Non-Fiction

Blind Date

Short Story / Non-Fiction

Popular Tags