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Jul 5, 2009 - 04:10 AM |
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Celebrate the 4th like a true American. Have a skinhead over for fireworks. |
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So today I got to enjoy the true pleasure of meeting my very first real life skinhead ex-con. It's my father's girlfriend's son. He arrived today with his girlfriend who is a clear meth addict, both of them unashamed of their swastikas and iron crosses that adorn their body in poorly done prison ink. I shall now list the exciting things this man did.
-As the alcohol began flowing in the party, I made my way downstairs to eat. As I was eating, him and his girlfriend sat by me. He conversation starter was "You know, I don't really have a too much of a problem with dykes like you," which quickly segued into a talk about how there are niggers in every race. He qualified this with "A nigger is an ignorant person."
Indeed. Fucking nigger. I escape, shocked at the fact that this guy is still here. It gets better. Did I forget to mention that he says he's on parole... in California? By the way he's drunk and smoking/selling weed. ANYWAY...
-A bit later, he gets into some sort of fight with his girlfriend and shoves her. His mother takes him home, supposedly. Yet she comes back later with him. Great.
-He begins throwing the younger children at the house into the pool very aggressively. Gets yelled at and starts yelling back like a child, saying he never gets to have fun.
-He tries to make me drink a shot with him. When I refuse on the basis that I not only do not drink, but am SICK. He calls me a bitch, and says that I am dissing him by not accepting. Awesome.
-He lights a cigarette with a lit firework. I briefly experience a moment of anticipation as I wait for it to explode in his face or otherwise hurt him. It doesn't.
-Eventually he starts yelling at one of my father's friends because he refused to play a song on the guitar for him. They leave and take their repeatedly thrown child with them.
-I find him doing pull-ups off of our patio roof, which is beginning to break because he is a giant ex-con. I tell him to stop because he is breaking it and he then shoves me rather hard, telling me, "I don't have to listen to some fucking dyke."
By now I am fucking furious. I keep telling my father and his mother to fucking make him leave since he is clearly getting worse and only angering people, but they both seem intent on defending his actions. Finally I practically yell at his mother, who finally decides to make him leave.
-As he is being almost dragged out of the house he begins to ask my father to defend the idea of him staying, which he doesn't. He then calls my dad a "punk bitch" and begins threatening to hurt him if he tries to get anywhere with his mother. By now he really is the life of the party, and is ushered out by the remaining people.
Anyway as the party winds down I am trying to talk to my dad about what a stupid idea it was to have him come over, and the entire time he just tries to rationalize his behavior. He had a rough childhood, he was beaten, he was institutionalized (so was I, big fucking deal), he blah blah blah. Anything to defend the actions of a man who was moments before poking his chest threatening him.
So as it is I am pretty fucking pissed. I seem to be the only person who doesn't feel sorry for the little cocksucker simply because of his past. And apparently nobody else seemed bothered by these tattoos like I was (besides my girlfriend, but she somehow managed to avoid him completely). But then again, I was the only person at the party besides her who was anything but a straight white person. I guess the swastika isn't too scary if you're just another cracker.
On top of all of this, my friend Kayla barely manages to avoid being attacked by a burglar. All in all, probably my worst 4th of July yet. Hooray.
By the way, I imagine I am pretty safe in assuming that an ex-con and possible active gang member having a teardrop tattoo means he killed someone, right? Awesome. Just awesome.
| Currently Playing: With the idea of getting in touch with his parole officer |
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