nin137
Nick's Journal
story 2
continuation of aformentioned story
moving on, on the other side of my father was my mom’s
friend’s boyfriend (like mother, like daughter). my mom
and her friend share the same name (monika) which is
bothersome. her boyfriend, erich, is every other guy that
i’ve ever seen, basically because i didn’t take the time
to get to know him. he was funny when he needed to be, he
knew just enough stuff to impress and he squeezed her hand
just enough to make her feel special in front of
everybody. monika, was a former model and appeared in the
austrian penthouse, some 20 years ago or so. she still
had the fading good looks that non-ugly people are
entitled to in their declining years, and i kept on trying
to figure out the whole dinner if she was happy with
erich. before she had him, she was with some surfer guy
that she most have thought was really hot, cos he was
about her daughter’s age. nice as he was he lived off her
and slept with everyone around, and even tried her
daughter, whcih apparently was the straw for the camel’s
back. now she had some guy that was fat, but atleast
mediocre in looks, and atleast he had a job, and even if
he wanted stefanie, he most likely wouldn’t entice her. i
don’t know if it’s just my perception of sociological
circumstances.
driving home was the usual fun-filled mayhem with my
father, now that he was good and liquored up. some guy
only happened to be doing 140 km/h in the left lane and my
dad went apeshit and honked his horn and blinked his
brights, and finally swerved around him on the right. i
used to drive incredibly recklessly like my dad but now i
just don’t see the point anymore. i don’t see a
marketable difference in how fast i get some where and
moreover, i just realize that roadrage and haste on the
road are just stupid and just lead me towards a notsonice
death. don’t get me wrong, i still love to blow by people
after tailgating them but not so much anymore.
so the next morning in the shower i went over last night.
i guess i can concede that stefanie and whatever his name
is loved each other, imean they did seem to hav3e a lot of
fun, and i’m sure whenever she’s a bitch to him he just
says to himself,
‚why am i letting her do that.......oh yeah, that’s right,
cos i’m going to be hitting that later tonight.‘
love? eh, who really cares, lust will do.
so then i began thinking about my grandmother. she’s
insane. i swear to god she is insane. she mumbles sweet
little nothings to herself and apparently has no adeptness
for human interaction. she’s crazy and constantly
belligerent (especially towards my dad). for example,
last nigth, she ws suppsoed to come with us to the dinner,
so when we went to pick her up my dad got his mountain
bike from the basement and brought it up to her floor, and
started cleaning it in the corridor. she completely
freaked out imagining that all the dirt that he was
cleaning off his bike somehow opened the door and came
into her apartment (she’s also a germaphobe). long story
short, she lost her mind and started yelling at my dad,
through the closed door, to stop wiping the dirt into her
apartment. my dad of course relishes any oppurtunity to
piss her off, and moreover to show just how crazy she is,
so he just said, alright, that’s it you’re not coming.
needless to say, she lost it a second time. i wonder if
all families have this loving chemistry between them? i’m
sure they do.
so i just thought how great i was for living with a crazy
person like my grandmother. wow, i sure am great, shit
yeah, i can take her and she doesn’t bother me. but then
again i thought that others can say that about me. i mean
it’s only relative, and there are a lot of people that
probably couldn’t stand my taciturn manner. my thoughts
were abruptly cut short as the water in the shower
realized it’s mandatory 2 mins. of nice temperatureof
water was over it became freezing cold and as i tried to
regulate it i damn near burnt my testes off, with the hot
water. admiting defeat i hoped out and muttered
disheartenedly about hwo i had hoped to have a nice warm
shower. i suppose it was all for the best as my aunt was
already ringing the buzzer, and i had to hurry with all of
my stuff down to her car.
now my aunt is quite a rare case in austria. she’s a
liberal, single-mother, who is very politically active.
she always has some guy around her, who seems like an
annoying buzzard. the guy that was driving with us to my
aunt’s place was no different. my aunt was to take over
my other aunt’s house as she went with some of my cousins
(including my brother) to bulgaria for the week. i felt
sorry for my aunt as i knew damn well taht she didn’t want
to stay behind and watch the hosue, but she’s just too
nice to say no. i’m sure i know how it went about too, my
one aunt that left (ulli) probably started out
surreptitiously,
‚you know if we are going to go to bulgaria someone will
have to take care of the house.‘
then, appropriately all other siblings would fall silent
until lisi (the aunt who i’m with) would grudgingly
comply. then of course the other siblings would say,
‚nooo, really, you don’t have to, are you sure you don’t
mind?‘
i hate people like that. they entice you to say no the
whole time once they feel they’ve captured you in a yes.
so there i was with lisi, which i didn’t mind at all,
because she was non-crazy, or atleast not as crazy as my
grandmother. the drive to the house was about an hour
away from vienna, and never have i seen one man make a 1
hour drive into a 5 hour hell hole. gerhard, was so
nervous it was unbelievable. neither lisi, nor i takled a
lot and apparently this didn’t sit well with him. most
people can’t, and won’t, shut the hell up. at first he
started drumming his fingers on the wheel then he turned
up the radio, then he started with the annoying small takl
that i didn’t want to engage in.
it was the usual,
‚so how’s school?‘
now, a.) you don’t know me and i’m sure you don’t care b.)
i don’t want to talk, talk to my aunt. i never get why
people always have to talk. if they’d just shut up most
of the time they’d hear some pretty interestng things,
evne if they don’t come from their own mouths. so finally
my aunt caught gerhard in some sort of political argument
that i tuned out as i watched the austrian countryside
slide by my window.
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