It's not something you typically expect to have to do, but, hey, what's life without the occasional banana peel?
My brother, Shawn, and I took our dad out last night. We try to do it every couple of months at least. We shoot some pool, have some drinks (well, they do, anyway) and just try to have some fun. Last night proved to be more, uh, interesting than usual. When Shawn and I went to pick up Dad at about a quarter to seven, we saw that he had already started drinking despite the fact that Shawn told him to not have any drinks until we went out. Dad has never been able to hold his liquor and we didn't want him falling down drunk an hour after we left.
We went to a local bar and it seemed like it was going to be just a normal night. We played a few games. Shawn kicked both our asses at pool since he plays quite a bit. A few hours roll by. I'm thinking it's about time to call it a night because I'm feeling tired and I have to work in the morning. Dad looks ready to fall asleep. Then they came over.
There had been two girls playing at a table next to us. One of them, Kelly, came over and started talking to Shawn. She thought she recognized him and she said his name sounded familiar. After playing question and answer, she remembers that she knows our sister, Sharie. They did not go to school together, but met through some guys they knew. She brought the other girl over, her sister, Jessica, and introductions were had. Shawn asked them if they wanted to play doubles and they agreed to after they finished their doubles game with another pair of guys.
A few minutes later they came over. And Dad came to life. Now, my dad is charming, lady-killer when he's sober. When he's drunk, he's over the top. Suddenly there are two twenty-something girls at our table and turns his charm up to 11. Before I know it, he's smacking one on the butt, calling them endearments, telling dirty jokes, blowing kisses, and so on. Of course, the whole time he's smiling and laughing and clearly having a good time. He's 71 years old. My brother and I are apologizing to the girls, but they just laugh and say he's cute. Yeah, cute, because he's 71 freakin' years old! If I was acting like that I would have been slapped and thrown out by the bouncer.
I tried cutting Dad off a couple of times, but if I turned my back for a second, he managed to get himself another drink. I went through the rest of the night red-faced. I told Kelly at one point that I might have to have the "son-father talk" and I wasn't looking forward to it. Finally, about eleven-thirty everybody was getting tired and Dad was nearly falling-down drunk. He said he had to go to the bathroom. When I asked him if he could get there okay, Jessica offered to walk him there. I groaned and rolled my eyes. They both said over and over that they didn't mind him at all and thought he was "hilarious," "cool," "a hoot," and an assortment of other complimentary terms. I was thinking more "drunken, dirty old man," but, you know, different perspectives and all that.
Kelly said that she and her sister had fun and wanted to exchange numbers so that we could all hang out again some time. My brother and I dragged Dad out as soon as he got out of the bathroom. After we dropped our dad off, I told Shawn that if she calls, she's probably going to ask, "Is your dad coming?" and insist that he does. It is funny, but more so in retrospect. For most of the night I just felt embarrassed.
I suppose the other somewhat amusing anecdote unrelated to my father was shortly after Kelly and Jessica came over to our table. About the only words out of my mouth so far have been, "Hi, I'm Shane." I'm not the gregarious social animal my father is, far from it. I'm wearing jeans and a t-shirt that says "I do all my own stunts." I'm fairly clean-cut, no strange tats or funky hair-do. Kelly pipes up and says, "So, are you one those, uhm, Dungeons and Dragons guys." A brief moment of silence passes as I think, what the hell? Nodding, I say, "Uh, yeah. I didn't think I had a sign on declaring it." "You just look like it," she says.
I didn't realize we D&D players had a "look." A little dorky or maybe average looking is what would come to mind if I had to describe myself, but I'm not sure my first thought if I saw me on the street would be "Roleplayer." I would have expected someone to hear me talk a little bit before they figured it out. Not that I'm embarrassed about it. I enjoy it and could care less what anyone else thinks about it. I just don't expect it to be the first question from someone who has just met me.
