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R. Burrow

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THE JERK
by R. Burrow
Sunday, November 24, 2013

Rated "PG" by the Author.

       
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     An evening with Don and his third wife.
Rag-off.

 

My father, Don, and his third wife, Lori, came over to my house to celebrate my son's birthday. The two were bringing over Ted's hot dogs for the four of us. Ted's was a very popular fast food joint in the area.  Sometimes there were long lines of people waiting to place their orders for regulars and footlongs, fries, onion rings, hamburgers and chicken sandwiches, and Ted's was renowned for their Loganberry also. Don told me over the phone, "We have your order. We know exactly what you want us to bring." I had an afterthought: "Can you get me some Loganberry, too?" Don seemed to hesitate, then said, "I think we have some Loganberry at the house. We'll bring that. Yeah, we'll bring the Loganberry we have at home," he said, half talking to himself. I was somewhat appalled by his cheapness, and certainly wanted Loganberry from Ted's, not whatever he had. I thought perhaps he was bringing some kind of special Loganberry, like the stuff made from the syrup at Crystal Beach.

We all sat around the coffee table, about to start eating. The dog began her begging, focusing on Don. Dogs, of course, instinctually know which person is most likely to give them food. I spoke. I said loudly and clearly: "Jackie is a beggar. Do NOT give her food. It'll make her more aggressive and demanding. She'll think she's entitled to food at the table. So please do NOT give her anything to eat." I repeated this speech maybe six times.

Don had eaten most of his hot dog. "I'm her victim," he said, referring to the dog. He threw the end, the last piece of his hot dog, to Jackie, and she swallowed it like a shark devouring a hunk of meat. I was furious! But I couldn't just start yelling. I would have liked to smash my father in the face. He has no common sense, he's cheap, and he's stupid as well. It's my house and my dog, and he completely disregarded me. The next instance I mentioned feeding the dog, Lori said to Don, "You gave her food twice, didn't you?" "Yeah," Don said. "The fries, then the piece of hot dog..." "Yeah," he said. The fries had been behind my back! I never saw it happen.

The loganberry was in a 2-liter bottle, about seven eighths of it already drunk, warm, and when I looked at it closely to throw it out, I noticed it was Diet Loganberry. Of course, I didn't want that shit. Who would want a 2-liter bottle of diet Loganberry, with barely a cupful of it left at the bottom of the bottle? And who knows how long it had been in their refrigerator? 

After they left, Jimmy first blamed me for all the talk about giving the dog food. I explained to him that that was my rule, I did not want Jackie being fed at the table, and Don, the asshole, condoned by Lori, fed her anyway. My son understood my position and ultimately agreed with me. I think the boy was happy about the $100.00 cash Don had given him. But I believe, eventually, Jimmy will see that he is a jerk. Always has been.

The $100.00 cash for my son for his birthday was fine. However, the first time Don and Lori came over, he gave Jimmy and me each a twenty. The next time, he gave only Jimmy a $20.00 allowance, and neglected me. I asked for an allowance, too, but he ignored me. Third time they came to our house, Don gave Jimmy yet another twenty-dollar bill. I asked for one for myself over and over again. Don, as if it was second nature, ignored every word I said. "I owe everybody money," I mentioned. Lori gave me a $20 bill of her own money, and I was happy.

"I'd like to hear you play the piano more, Jim," Don said. I hated when Don called him Jim. It was JIMMY. Or at least JAMES. Not CONSTANTLY "JIM." My father wanted to go to a restaurant for dinner to celebrate his own upcoming birthday. He invited my son but failed to mention me.

"Jim is our grandson," Don said, "the only grandchild on this side of the family." "He's MY SON!" I exclaimed. Lori chuckled for a moment. Jimmy gave me a prolonged look. 

I think that if there was an ASSHOLE contest, Don would absolutely win. If you included many of the events of the past, it would be hands down. I don't want him in my house again - the water under the bridge is overflowing, a tsunami, and I hate him so much I feel like a cat frazzled by electricity. Angry. Lori has much common sense, but lacks in the education field, and Don has no sense to speak of. He's also cheap, selfish, narcissistic.

Well............a person should just be glad he or she is not HIM.

 

 

 

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Reviewed by Stephen Pollard 6/6/2021
You wrote a great story...I sympathize with you about your dad....He sounds like a walking, talking clod who doesn't ever seem to get it....Especially when one like yourself is constantly reminding him of something that he should have already known....I would take my dad anyday....Even if he had any bad habits.
Reviewed by Budd Nelson 11/25/2013
a well written story
budd

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