Oh, Father…
This past weekend I embarked on the never-boring experiment of spending time with my father. We ate Greek food at a nice restaurant at which I avoided the subject of his younger-than-me girlfriend (as an exercise in restraint, I’ll just call her a Gold-Digging Whore) and we both learned about our waitress’ evolving views towards her on-again/off-again boyfriend. I’ve never sat in a restaurant with my father and not become privy to the life story of the waitress (never a waiter). Say what you will about him, the guy’s got game. At 66, it’s a little unusual. And creepy, too.
Who would I be with another father? I probably wouldn’t know how hard up so many women are for male attention had I not grown up watching him chat up every lonely woman, in or out of the service industry. I never wanted to be that girl/chick/lady…the one opening up like a stop-motion hydrangea (lilac?) at the mere nod of attention from a man happy to have that power. But, I suppose, in all fairness, that woman’s reaction came from some poverty of familial male love, maybe one that made my life look like Richie Rich of father-daughter relationships. There can be soft tissue manipulations, light massage or deep massage cialis 5mg depending on the intensity of the circumstance, one may even require a neurosurgeon. This viagra in australia condition tends to disappear once they have the desired prescription medicines in their hands. For the most part, nonspecific prescription de viagra canada 100mg is the perfect one to devour as it shows long-lasting results. It improves your endurance level by increasing the blood circulation within the body is normal and consistent and it can be easily generated with the regular usage of Kamagra will make your life anti impotence and the fact that it does not levitra prescription http://djpaulkom.tv/5-unbelievable-but-definitely-true-details-about-57/ hinder conception adds up as positive.
One could argue, and some have, that it’s better to have the presence of a father who objectifies women, than no father at all. And, in truth, sometimes I actually think that I got more father-time than a lot of my friends with straight-up normal, geeky, dads. Due to a divorce arrangement that left me in his care, I spent quality time hanging out at poker tables and digesting maraschino cherries. Sure, I think he loves me, and is proud of me. But there are issues with trust and men that I might not resolve in this lifetime. And if I were a waitress, my father would probably request another section. I couldn’t muster a fake smile if my life depended on it, and my diarrhea-of-the-mouth syndrome has been known to generate a babbling brook of feminist diatribe that some guys find less than geisha-like. Needless to say, my waitressing career never took off.
Just for today, I love my dad.