Yay It's morning Wood
must sleep on back from now on
or chain dog at night
Due to the votes in the last poll, I will continue the crack chronicles for a little while longer, then move on to the other crappy cars (including the impala with the many different colors both inside and out and the Acclaim I had that smelled of not so fresh twat all the time)... enjoy!
In another part of Kansas City, at the exact same time...
Now, you may be getting slightly bored listening to these stories about my crack-loving dad, and you may be wondering "What about your stripper mom? Was all peaches and cream with her too?"
In fact, little did we know because we did not go by her house all that often, she had started down much the same road at right about the same time. She met a hippie named Jeff (sorry Jeff) who was as worthless as the sky is blue. He lived in a dungeon-like basement apartment near Westport, and was to me a taint on the skivvies of civilization.
He was with my mother, who is black, and yet inexplicably bought a guitar and named it "Nigger". He told me that I needed to work hard to be noble and steadfast like him, and yet I saw him digging in the trash behind a Church's Chicken in Westport and eating some strange looking fried chicken later that day. He also had a veritable cavalcade of homeless men sleeping in the completely unfinished portion of the basement, and during the 3 weeks I stayed there these bums would come and go through our (and my) stuff as they pleased.
I hated Jeff with a passion. He wanted me to call him either "Father" or "Sir", so I called him "Jeff", because I am bigger than he is. He informed me that it was his house and I must live under his rules; I informed him that my mom was the only one in the home with gainful employment, so it actually was NOT his house.
Jeff smoked crack. Jeff got my mom smoking crack. Crack and stripping do not mix. Crack and my mom seemed to mix just fine.
During this whole time I had to rely on either Jeff and my mom or my dad for rides to get where I needed to be. This did not bode well for "schedules", or me keeping them. I used to have my girlfriend over just to hang out or to go to a movie or something like that, trying desperately to keep whichever parent was there out of sight so she would not see the vacuous eye sockets of a practising Crack-zombie in the flesh.
I had had previous bad luck with my dad, who I had actually bought his car from him at least 3 different times, to get told later that since he's my dad that he did not have to sell the car to me, and the time I got back from a football game he was supposed to go to much less pick me up, and he did neither, so I ended up walking 8 miles home in my full football gear because my clothes were in his car, or the time I paid him 20 dollars to let me use his car and he was so busy smoking the 20 dollars up he forgot to come get me and I ended up waiting at a ghetto mall for 2 hours before walking home, so I figured I would try to rely on my mom. This was early in the cracketry, my dad had just met Janet but had shown how much of a loser he was in those 2 short weeks.
I was with my girl at my sister's house, just hanging out, having a great time in fact, they had food and try as I might I could smell no crack. Jeff was supposed to be there to pick me up at 3, it was 2:45 and still no one there, but I was not all that worried. 3 came and went, no one. 3:15, still nothing. I called Jeff's house. Big surprise, phone is out. 4 comes, I try calling my dad, apparently while my girlfriend was over, my dad had proposed and gotten married and was gone on his honeymoon at one of the finest pay-by-the-hour hotels Eastern Kansas City has to offer someone with 20 dollars. WTF?! Whatever, I kept trying other people, even at one point trying my older brother, who asked how much gas money I had, and when I told him I only had 10 dollars (remember gas was 1.15 in those days) he hung up on me and did not answer subsequent calls.
Finally at 10 til 5 Jeff shows up, acting all smug, and tells me that maybe I should break up with my girlfriend so he did not have to drive me "all over town", nevermind that her house was less than 2 miles from his dungeopartment. We get my girlfriend home, who was being a sport the whole time I must say, and then he tells me he wants me to pay to fix his car because it was breaking down and that if I buy it from him and fix it I would have to share it with him and his son, completely ignoring the small fact that I never asked him about his junkheap car.
More on Jeff tomorrow, including the fights with my older brother which were hilarious in retrospect, since Jeff was a bum and my brother absolutely hated bums.