End Of The Day

“Hurry up, it’s cold!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

“Get your ass in here and shut the door, I’m wasting all the heat. Damn, it’s cold!”

“I feel fine.”

“I would too if I was sitting there with those on my lap. What’s that smell?”

“Pepperoni and onion. I’m the pep, dad’s the onion.”

“One topping on each?”

“No, both on both.”

“Not my favorite combination, but I wouldn’t complain.”

“What would you add to balance out the flavors for your taste buds? Turn right on Elm.”

“I would if this idiot in front of me would move. C’mon, Jack! Move it! … And to answer your question, I would add black olives.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They create a nice balance between the pepperoni and onion.”

“Huh. I’ll mention it to my dad, maybe he’ll wanna give it a try…. Mind if I change the music?”

“Don’t touch the radio. Never touch another man’s radio.”

“Okay, well then will you change the music? I can’t stand all this old crap.”

“Hey, you better watch what you say. Without this old crap you’d never have your synthesized, voice manipulated, patchwork shit you call music today. You want to hear real music by real musicians who actually knew how to play and create, then you listen to the classics.”

“Fine, I get it, and don’t get me wrong there are old bands I like but do we have to listen to the Beatles? They’re like the oldest band ever.”

“Not true. The oldest band ever or rather the very first band was the Original Dixieland Jass Band.”

“… Why do you know that?”

“What? I like music. Excuse me for wanting to know more about it than the name of a song or two.”

“No, what I mean is what made you want to know that piece of trivia?”

“I don’t know … one day the question popped into my head, ‘What was the name of the first music band?’ So I decided to look it up. Why?”

“I find things like that interesting about people. Why they know certain things or why they want to know certain things. It tells you a lot about them. You can pull up to the curb here. Mine’s the one with the blue truck in the driveway.”

“How old is that truck?”

“Seven years.”

“Looks good for its age.”

“That’s dad for you, ‘Take care of your tools, and they’ll take care of you.’ Well, thanks for the ride. I promise I’ll give you gas money as soon as I get my first check.”

“Yeah no problem. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Catch ya later.”

“… You gonna stand out in the cold all night or are you gonna bring in the food?”

“Dad, get back inside before you catch a cold.”

“I’m only sticking my head out the door, and I don’t feel a damn thing — now get in here, I’m hungry.”

“Okay, okay, I’m here, now can we close the door, it’s freezing.”

“Give me these, I’ll take them to the kitchen, and you can close the door. So who dropped you off?”

“That was Wendell. He does deliveries. Offered me a ride home.”

“Well you give him some gas money when you get the chance, that was awfully nice of him.”

“Don’t worry dad, I already told him I’d take care of him once I get my check.”

“Good. Means you actually listen to me once in a while.”

“What was that dad? I didn’t hear you.”

“Shut up and grab some plates.”

“Get the milk out, I’ll grab the glasses.”

“Mmmm-smells good.”

“Yeah, I give us two weeks before we get sick to death of the smell. Both the benefit and the burden of working in fast food.”

“No reason to knock free food. If Grandpa were here he’d tell of his days growing up in the Great Depression. How him and his family — and they were a big family — how they and a thousand other families would have killed to have food like this every day during those years. Don’t take things for granted.”

“I know, and I’’m not. I was just saying that in two weeks one of us will be commenting on how we’re getting tired of eating this, that’s all.”

“Maybe, but you should still appreciate it.”

“I do. Pass the napkins.”

“There’s something wrong with Netflix, you need to take a look at it.”

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing! I tried to turn it on and get back to the show I was watching, but it won’t let me in. Keeps asking for some code or something.”

“You probably logged out the wrong way, again. I’ll have to put in the password to get us back in.”

“Well why don’t they make it so you don’t have to do that every time?”

“They do! But for some reason out of all the people on this planet you’re the only one who doesn’t know how to turn off Netflix properly. It baffles the mind how you were able to raise a family.”

“I had help. Your mother’s just as much responsible for you and your brother’s upbringing as I am.”

“Yeah, and Jerry got all of Mom’s smarts while I —“

“While you got her sarcastic wit and passion for story telling.”

“I can’t complain about the sarcastic wit, it serves me well.”

“Can’t complain about your passion either.”

“That hasn’t served me as well, though I wish it would.”

“What are you talking about? I see you when you write, I see you lost in thought dreaming of new worlds. You love it.”

“I just figured by now I would have sold something. It’s frustrating.”

“Well you got your stuff posted on those websites, and the people who commented liked your work.”

“Yeah but those are websites that don’t pay.”

“They still have to choose your work over others before they post it.”

“I know, I know, but it’s not the same as someone offering you money for your work. To have someone say, ‘Hey, your work is good, and I’m willing to pay for it’.”

“Give it time … give it time.”

“That’s the one thing I’ve got — time … and a mountain of debt, and a fast food job…. Hurray!”

“… You done feeling sorry for yourself?”

“… I’m gonna go fix Netflix, so you can watch your show. I’ll cleanup the dishes when I’m done.”

“… Davy.”

“… Yeah.”

“Your mother always believed in you. Perhaps that’s something else you need to take from her.”

“… Perhaps you’re right…. Thanks dad.”

END