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On Eamon's recommendation, I scored four tickets to the Aimee Mann concert. I gave two of them to my daughter so she and her boyfriend could attend. As we were leaving for the concert, my daughter couldn't get her car started. Her boyfriend doesn't drive, and won't be driving until he is 21 because he got popped for a DWI will still having only a learner's permit. This put the four of us in the totally uncomfortable position of my wife and I being on a double-date with my daughter and her boyfriend.
As you may or may not know, my 17-year-old daughter attends a coed boarding school in Oklahoma City, which is a two- hour drive from here. She has been going with a young man from her class for the past six months, but my wife and I had never met him. When we were finally introduced, I found this snot-nosed kid to be quiet vulgar and supremely arrogant. He uttered nothing but nasty little jibes about my house, the professions of me and my wife, and generally denigrated our entire lifestyle. After bragging about his college test scores, I told him he reminded me a lot of myself when I was his age. He asked, "Oh, you tested well, too?"
"No," I replied. "At your age, I was also a consummate smart-ass."
We got into our Saturn, and begin our journey to the concert. This little shit boyfriend of my daughter's has the nerve to pull a six pack of beer out of a paper bag and pop's the top off of a bottle without even asking me if this would be o.k. My wife turns to me, her eyes as big as saucers, pinches my arm, motions to the back seat, and gives me her best "Do something about this!" look. I turn my head, and say to the intruder, "Hey. Can you hand me that beer?" He hands me the open beer bottle. (Budweiser. For an arrogant little shit, he has rather pedestrian taste in brews). I grasp the bear by its neck with my right hand and bring it down near my left side. I intend to throw this perfectly good open container of beer out of my sunroof so that it impacts and splatters on the wide, deserted suburban road on which we are presently traveling, but God had another plan for me. I extended my arm rapidly towards the sunroof, flicked my wrist, and shattered the bottle on the edge of the sunroof, bathing the four occupants of my vehicle in a shower of beer and glass.
"Cool." Says my daughter's boyfriend.
I'm afraid the moment was totally blown.
.
O.K, I made that whole thing up. But you knew that, didn't you? My daughter drives a Honda, and those things never break. Aimee Mann never played Tulsa. My daughter does have a boyfriend, but he is well mannered and quiet. But of course, any boyfriend my daughter had would have to be the quite type. When you spend much time around her, it's hard to get a word in edgewise.
==Coaster
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