But Is He Fly For A Rabbi?

, , , , , | Related | October 6, 2020

Back when I am a young teenager and CD players in cars are a new thing, my family goes on a road trip. To prevent fighting, the deal is that every person gets to play one song from their CD and take turns. There is absolutely no voting because we’ve already learned that this just leads to screaming matches when my step-dad doesn’t get his way. My family typically prefers classic rock, but I’m into punk rock.

My step-dad, usually just to be argumentative and whiney, hates every band I like. His song just ended. It’s my turn, and I remove his CD to put mine in.

My step-dad immediately starts whining, not even looking at what CD I’ve used; the song hasn’t started yet.

Step-Dad: “Do I really have to listen to this garbage?! We should skip your turn and play another song from [His CD].”

Me: *Eyeroll* “The song hasn’t started and you’re already whining for another turn? Dude, shut up.”

Mom is checked out and not paying attention.

My step-dad’s face starts to go red how it does right before he starts literally throwing a tantrum. My song starts, and it has a weird intro that sounds like a funny voice speaking pig-Latin. His expression changes and he gets excited about it.

Step-Dad: *Laughing* “Well, you should have told me you were putting on Def Lep—”

The actual song starts, to reveal that it is indeed not classic rock, but rather is a funny punk song about a loser that claims women think he’s cool, For A White Guy. [Step-Dad] hates this song, because he’s painfully insecure about his masculinity and level of coolness and thinks the song is racist.

Step-Dad: *Angry again* “What the h*** is this?! You’re not allowed to listen to this band! I already told you to throw that CD away!”

Me: *Shouts over him* “It’s my turn; I get to pick the song. You’re not my dad; you can’t tell me what I can listen to. Besides, Mom bought this CD for me, so! Shut! Up! And! Deal!”

Mom: *Stops mentally disassociating* “Be quiet, everyone. Just play the CDs like we agreed. No arguing. No voting. Just one at a time.”

I sang along loudly. [Step-Dad] was mad for the rest of the trip and sulked, complete with dirty looks and intentionally turning away from anyone who tried to talk to him. He refused to take his turns because he was too busy pouting. He never seemed to figure out that I prefer his silence over his tantrums, so a cold shoulder from him is a vacation for me!

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