Here's One...

I think I was in sixth or seventh grade, and I was "dating" (the quotes signify that I mean dating in the loosest possible terms, it was middle school ferchrissake) this girl, Bonnie. Since Dad was always trying to be the coolest old man on earth, he offered to drive Bonnie, her friend Allison, and me to the ice skating rink one Friday night for a date.


See where I'm going with this?   My dad...driving...trying to be cool...


So I'm pretty sure that during the car ride to the rink, Allison may have vomited, a little. My father was not known for his grace and restraint behind the wheel. During the entire trip, Meatloaf's "Bat Out of Hell" album was blasting through the "finely-crafted 462-speaker Nakamichi sound system" in his Lexus (oh God! him and his Lexii, that's another post altogether!) and we were having a great time, notwithstanding the crying, vomiting, and shouts of terror.


Needless to say, we arrived at the ice rink in one piece. Dad didn't hang out or linger. He just dropped us off and took off (not even sure that he came to a full stop). As soon as he left I was petrified to think what the girls' reactions would be to the carnival ride we just de-boarded. Turns out, they thought he was the awesomestest dad in the whole world.


Well-played, Mr. Giardina, well-played.