He doesn’t give a dame about me
You know you’d think it would hurt when you finally realize for sure that one or more of your parents doesn’t give a dame about you. But in doesn’t. Ok I feel like dirt, and that I’m completely useless. But the fact that my father could care less about me just leaves me feeling numb. Hell, I’m crying and I don’t even know why.
It started out as such a good day too. My college class went great. I managed to leave on time and got there early, even though I had the let the car warm up for about 10 minutes because it was so cold out. Classes when well and I was in a good mood. Should have known it wouldn’t last.
I headed home after my first class because I don’t need to be back on campus until 6:00pm. I was on the highway doing between 55 and 60 when this big truck comes up alongside me, about half the size of a semi but not as big. Like one of those white FedEx trucks only it didn’t have a company name on it. Just a big, dirty, white truck. And it pretty much passes me really quick. Right as it’s alongside me I see this white object come flying of the top strait at my car. Now at the time I hadn’t had all the great a look at the truck since it had just bulled up, so the first thing in my mind is that one of those long whit plastic-like pipes has fallen off and is going to come through my windshield. But it was just a large chuck of ice that had fallen off the roof, but it took me about a minute to realize that fact.
It scared the living daylights out on me and by the time I could breath again the truck had passed the car in front of me, a piece of ice just missing the front of that car as well. If the license plate had been clean enough to see I would have copied I down to give to the police. I mean talk about a road hazard.
Anyway after I get over most of my fright I realize there’s this big crack in my windshield extending all the way from the bottom to the top. Then when I go to glance in my rearview mirror I realize that it was knocked off by the force of the impact.
Still shacking pull of the highway and stop in the parking lot of the Hilton Hotel and spent the next 5 minutes or trying to clam down so I can actually talk when I call home to tell my dad (who needs to get a job and stop bitching at everyone else who has one) what happened. And you know what he does instead of asking if I’m ok. He causes me out and says, “I don’t believe you!” Like I can’t believe you were so stupid. Not the he thinks anything I like or have an interest in is worth much. He hangs up so he can MapQuest directions to where I am. Then calls back telling me he’s on his way to where I am, and that it’s really far away from the highway, when I can see the fucking highway from the dame parking lot.
I spent the next 20 or minutes waiting for him and trying not to cry. Which worked pretty well. Other then my throat getting tight nothing happened. When he finally shows up he doesn’t say anything, just takes pictures of the damage. He ask if I heard the windshield cracking while I was driving. No. Then he goes and says all pissed, “Just a random accident.” Like it’s my fault the dame truck that sped past me had ice falling of the roof.
Piss a bit myself now I ask him how it could be my fault. And he gets even more pissed hands me the keys to his truck and says, “Take my truck home, and don’t ruin my car.” And when I go to get my stuff out of the car I was driving he says, “Leave your shit in the car.” I had to ask to get my purse so I could have my driver’s license. Then I had to spend the rest of the trip home try not to cry again. It didn’t work. I had to pull of the highway again because I was starting to cry so hard I couldn’t see.
When I finally get home he only talks to me to ask how the rearview mirror came off. And then he only listens to me tell him what happened in short, brief sentences. He doesn’t want to hear the whole story, and doesn’t even ask once if I’m ok. I think I’m going to die when I see something flying at my windshield and he doesn’t even care. I can’t stop crying for more then 5 minutes and he doesn’t care. The only thing he’s worried about in the fucking car. I had to call my best friend in Maryland, because I need some one to talk to and help me calm down a little, because she was the only one I could get a hold of.
Well at lest it’s nice to know for sure that my father doesn’t give a dame about me. At lest now I don’t have to try so hard to please him. Not that I can seem to do anything right as far as he’s concerned.
It started out as such a good day too. My college class went great. I managed to leave on time and got there early, even though I had the let the car warm up for about 10 minutes because it was so cold out. Classes when well and I was in a good mood. Should have known it wouldn’t last.
I headed home after my first class because I don’t need to be back on campus until 6:00pm. I was on the highway doing between 55 and 60 when this big truck comes up alongside me, about half the size of a semi but not as big. Like one of those white FedEx trucks only it didn’t have a company name on it. Just a big, dirty, white truck. And it pretty much passes me really quick. Right as it’s alongside me I see this white object come flying of the top strait at my car. Now at the time I hadn’t had all the great a look at the truck since it had just bulled up, so the first thing in my mind is that one of those long whit plastic-like pipes has fallen off and is going to come through my windshield. But it was just a large chuck of ice that had fallen off the roof, but it took me about a minute to realize that fact.
It scared the living daylights out on me and by the time I could breath again the truck had passed the car in front of me, a piece of ice just missing the front of that car as well. If the license plate had been clean enough to see I would have copied I down to give to the police. I mean talk about a road hazard.
Anyway after I get over most of my fright I realize there’s this big crack in my windshield extending all the way from the bottom to the top. Then when I go to glance in my rearview mirror I realize that it was knocked off by the force of the impact.
Still shacking pull of the highway and stop in the parking lot of the Hilton Hotel and spent the next 5 minutes or trying to clam down so I can actually talk when I call home to tell my dad (who needs to get a job and stop bitching at everyone else who has one) what happened. And you know what he does instead of asking if I’m ok. He causes me out and says, “I don’t believe you!” Like I can’t believe you were so stupid. Not the he thinks anything I like or have an interest in is worth much. He hangs up so he can MapQuest directions to where I am. Then calls back telling me he’s on his way to where I am, and that it’s really far away from the highway, when I can see the fucking highway from the dame parking lot.
I spent the next 20 or minutes waiting for him and trying not to cry. Which worked pretty well. Other then my throat getting tight nothing happened. When he finally shows up he doesn’t say anything, just takes pictures of the damage. He ask if I heard the windshield cracking while I was driving. No. Then he goes and says all pissed, “Just a random accident.” Like it’s my fault the dame truck that sped past me had ice falling of the roof.
Piss a bit myself now I ask him how it could be my fault. And he gets even more pissed hands me the keys to his truck and says, “Take my truck home, and don’t ruin my car.” And when I go to get my stuff out of the car I was driving he says, “Leave your shit in the car.” I had to ask to get my purse so I could have my driver’s license. Then I had to spend the rest of the trip home try not to cry again. It didn’t work. I had to pull of the highway again because I was starting to cry so hard I couldn’t see.
When I finally get home he only talks to me to ask how the rearview mirror came off. And then he only listens to me tell him what happened in short, brief sentences. He doesn’t want to hear the whole story, and doesn’t even ask once if I’m ok. I think I’m going to die when I see something flying at my windshield and he doesn’t even care. I can’t stop crying for more then 5 minutes and he doesn’t care. The only thing he’s worried about in the fucking car. I had to call my best friend in Maryland, because I need some one to talk to and help me calm down a little, because she was the only one I could get a hold of.
Well at lest it’s nice to know for sure that my father doesn’t give a dame about me. At lest now I don’t have to try so hard to please him. Not that I can seem to do anything right as far as he’s concerned.
posted by Draca at 1:49 PM
0 comments
