False Epiphanies I Have Had

One day I came to the unfortunate realization my father was a complete whore.

          I was suddenly awakened by the sounds of shouting. I looked over at the clock. The dim green light enraged me in the form of 12:23. Dammit, I thought. I'd only been asleep for half an hour, and I knew I wouldn't get back to sleep until at least twice that had passed. I had to wake up in about four hours to go to my crappy job that I hated, and now I was going to have to work on basically no sleep. Making Tuscani pasta for the Orca whales that ate their breakfast at Target's “food court.” Pathetic low lives. And was I really any better than them?  Serving out the gruel coated rubber they slid down their throats?

I forcefully tossed my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comforter to the right and slipped into my Deerfoams. I walked down the stairs to see what all the ruckus was about.

“IT WAS YEARS AGO, LIZBETH. OVER TWENTY YEARS.”

“DON'T GIVE ME THAT CRAP, CRAIG. EIGHTEEN GIRLS BEFORE JUNIOR YEAR EVEN BEGAN? DO YOU KNOW HOW DISGUSTING IT IS TO IMAGINE YOUR PENIS BEING INSIDE ME AFTER ENTERING THAT MANY PIMPLY PUBESCENT VAGINAS? REALLY FUCKING DISGUSTING, CRAIG.”

“IT WAS BEFORE WE MET DAMMIT.”

“OH NO, WE HAD MET. WE JUST WEREN'T A THING YET.”

“Oh...ummm-”

“WHOOOOREE. WHORE, WHORE, WHORE, WHORE, WHORE. YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE A VIRRRRGIN.”

“OH AND YOU BELIEVED THAT? I WAS A STUD BACK THEN. YOU KNOW THOSE LITTLE MACHINES THAT  FIND STUDS BEHIND WALLS? I COULD SET ONE OF THOSE FUCKERS OFF FROM A MILE AWAY, LIZBETH. MAYBE EVEN ONE POINT TWO MILES IF MY HAIR WAS PROPERLY GELLED.”

I had told them that the high school reunion was a terrible idea. I decided that I wasn't even going to bother. Before my parents could come in from the garage I headed back to my room, placed my Dr. Dre Beats over my ears, and set myself down in bed. As Kenny G attempted to sax me to sleep, I couldn't help but ponder over what an incredibly ginormous slut my father was.

          Update: My parents are actually just inconsiderate assholes. I got home for the day around 7PM, and they were just lounging on the couch watching the Voice. “Hey, Jamie!” How dare my father speak to me after the egregious offenses of the previous night. I had had so little sleep that I didn't even remember having had an erection. Erections were my favorite parts of my sleep cycle, and he had taken that away from me. I expected a fantastically crafted dialogue of apology to spew forth from their mouths, but instead I got a “How was your day son?” After several minutes of employing subtlety and passivity to express my fury, I discovered that my parents were simply performing an acting exercise from a Meisner book somebody had left on a BART seat. I should have known something was awry because my mother's name is Megan and my father's is Daniel. Upon inquiring why they chose to perform the exercise at such an hour, they informed me that they had been high out of their minds on shrooms my father had purchased in an effort to recapture their youth. I slept especially early that night.