My 57 year old son

So, Friday night, sometime around midnight, my phone rings.

I look at the display and its my dad's number.

first thought "Fuck. My dad's in the hospital and someone is calling to let me know."

So I do what I do when faced with something serious.

I avoid it.

I check my voice mail 15 minutes later unable to live with the guilt.

My dad is fine. In fact, he's so fine he's drunk dialing me.

Yes. Drunk Dialed.

By my dad.

"Hey Steph. It's your little old dad! (insert chuckle). I'm at this bar off San Pedro and Oblate. I think you'd like it. I just wanted to say that, ya know, we should be closer and tell eachother what's going on in our lives. We're like the only family we've got, man [note: My dad calls me "man". heh]. Give me a call. Bye"

So I call him the next day.

*ring* *ring*

"Hello"

"Hey Dad"

"Hey! (pause) So, what's up"

"Just returning your call from last night"

"I...called you??"

"Yeah"

"Man. Was I drunk?"

"I think so"

"I wasn't driving was I?"

"No"

"Oh thats good"

"You were at some bar off Oblate"

"Oh, you've been there?"

"No (said in confusion)"

"Oh, how'd you know what bar I was at"

"You told me"

"Man. I was drunk" ¶ 4:27 PM


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