i just realized who i have become–my d. because he would spend hours on his end down in the basement on his ham radio trying to talk to anyone else BUT me. except i don’t have a basement or a ham radio. also i make more money than him. one time he taught me how to pancake a plastic gallon milk jug between your hip and the edge of the counter. “that way,” he said, “you’ll have more room in the trash for other stuff and you don’t waste the bag.” he did that with empty pizza boxes, too. folded them so many times he could have put one in his back pocket.
he also had this computer game truck driver simulator where you had X amount of dollars to get X amount of oranges to X marks the spot. it was so boring that i eventually found his XXX box of smut. when i was 12 i gave myself a banana split while looking at man on woman anal. i even put a condom on like a frenchman.
and before anyone came home i got on my bike and rode as far as i could to bury the evidence. i still remember the way the condom oil and smell stayed on my hands for hours. i was so sure he knew i went through his stuff but i think it was easier that way for him to stay hush–he still didn’t have to talk to me.
later that summer, while he mowed the lawn in the reeboks HIS MOM bought him, i masturbated to his sunbathing wife. right in the kitchen i was making faces like i was washing the dishes–just in case she saw me. i didn’t get to finish because her son came home for his lunch break.
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