Since this is a new blog, I wanted to share some past history with ya because I think it will do you(the reader) some good and maybe be able to understand me a little bit better. This story is going to be Part 1 in a 3 part series. So gather around children, its story time.. . .
Once upon a time when my brother and I would travel to New Jersey to visit our father, who at the time gave a shit about us... yes, you guessed it friend, during the child support days. During these times of court ordered visitation my brother and I would experience some of the funniest moments with our father, more so at his expense than anything else. Oh by the way, for the sake of this story and protecting identities we’re gonna go ahead and refer to my father as “Mario Drakes”. Why “Mario Drakes”? I’m not sure but it was in my head when deciding on a name so we’re going with it... Now, I want you to close your eyes, use your imagination, and follow what I have typed for you . . .
During one of our many two week at a time visits in the summer months I was confronted with a very demoralizing fact. . . and that fact was if genetics had anything to do with it I was going to be a very bad drunk driver when I grew up. Here’s how:
Whenever we left the house everything was usually the same, Mario Drakes’ wife would take care of the dog to make sure it had its treats and so forth to stay occupied while Mario Drakes would round up my brother and I so we would be ready to go on time. Mario Drakes would usually be the last out of the house making sure to lock the door behind him before we all walked out to the car, got in and put our seat belts on before starting the journey to our desired destination. Not this day though, shit was different on this day. Mario Drakes, instead of visually and physically making sure we were ready to go like normal, was yelling from the upstairs spare bedroom - door closed. Then he came down in a hurry, looked at us and told us its time to hit the road. Two things stuck out: 1. He was pretty hyper for a usually laid back guy, and 2. He had a serious case of the sniffles.
See that day we had family picnic to go to and everything seemed normal at first. After contemplating whether or not we even wanted to go Mario Drakes decided it was best. So we went and like I said, everything seemed pretty fuckin’ normal at first but that was before we took it to the road. So we’re cruising on the highway, going pretty fast. . . I dunno like 70ish. Mario Drakes seems pretty happy, making more jokes than usual. We’re in the back seat laughing while Mario Drakes’ wife is ridding shotgun with a worried look on her face. The car starts swerving a little bit, we’re still laughing because Mario Drakes is... so at this point we think he’s just messing around with us. Still, Mario Drakes’ wife’s worry is growing to a now more concerned/scared look. As time goes by the swerves are becoming a lot like mini-whiplashes and the “joke” is getting old. Next thing we know the door ajar sound goes off and our attention is focused forward to see what’s going on . . . It was then that we noticed the driver door open and Mario Drakes attempting a tuck and roll.... with the seat belt on. We’re thinking “what the fuck” (but we were kids so it was probably more like “holy shit”) while staring in disbelief as the wife is trying to pull Evil Knievel’s ass back into the car while also trying to straighten out the vehicle. Fortunately for the New Jersey State Turnpike’s clean up crew, Mario Drakes’s wife was able to get him back into the vehicle before disengagement of the restraints were successful. She gets us pulled off to the side, takes control of the driver seat, leaving us to sit in the back with Giggles (aka Mario Drakes) sprawled out in the middle of this usually wide but now crammed Lincoln Town Car. Mario Drakes' wife then calls an audible, does a u-turn, and takes us home. . . The end.