Out of the kindness of my heart

Continuing on the theme of the last post, I have more stories from the man, the myth, the legend that is my father, the man who helped spawn yours truly. These next couple of stories are some of my favorites that have stuck with me since I was a child. So with out further a do, heres another story to brighten your day.

The Coney island freak friend show.

Growing up in Bay ridge, BK, my father lived with all girls and his mother. A loaner of sorts, he seeked desperately to find a friend that was a) was not a part of his family b) was not one of his sisters, who as he described them spent their entire lives in the bathroom just to bother him and that all 8 of them were all supermodels....

It can be tough being a kid, and he had it even worse being as he was super fat. He would always tell me how he would have to work twice as hard to be super funny so that people would like him and not just think as the "fat kid" which looking back on my own child hood was true, I mean it's one thing when a fat kid in zip off pants, a bowling shirt and a rat tail is entertaining you. But when said fat kid is just trying to hangout and "talk", well that shit just can't fly.

So, on what seemed to be one of his many excursions to Coney island to have a fun packed afternoon of larfs and the freak show, my dad was in for a surprise. Instead of bringing home 5 hot dogs and a basket of onion rings, he had brought home a best friend known only as "the wolf boy". He began to explain to me that he was not in fact a wolf, but just a kid with a ton of hair all over him...ahhhh, so he's not actually part wolf part boy huh, even when I was 5 I felt like I was being patronized a little. He began hanging out with the wolf boy more and more and before you knew it, they became best friends. So, like most best buds he had asked the wolf boy over for dinner with a warning attached about grandpa and his lack of sensitivity towards but not limited to blacks, jews, asains, fat people, skinny people, indians, everyone in my family, himself and especially wolf boys. If there's one thing I remember from the tales of pappy, it's that he hated wolf people.

As the Dinner began, Pappy immediately asked why his bowl of pasta wasn't being served to him on the floor considering that he's a dog. Wolfboy continued to eat the almost uneatable pasta from my grandmothers, this is a subject of many stories in itself always ending in "how the hell she thought you could boil meat balls I don't know", my father tried changing the subject but it's hard to Vere peoples attention away from the elephant in the room, especially if that elephant looks like teen wolf. With the mix of the food, a gaggle of supermodel sister staring, and Pappy on fire in his joke department Wolfboy quickly got up and ran back to the tent covered beaches of Coney island and back to his family. He was comforted by the bearded lady, the strongest man alive tried desperately to lift his spirits, the stretchy skin guy offered a helping hand, and the guy with no limbs kinda just laid there.

That was the last time my father saw wolfboy, and nobody was happier then Pappy. Until one hot summer day when walking from the Bronx in Manhattan all the way to Bay ridge Brooklyn all for a nickel off baseball cards( insert the "sometimes it's worth the trip Seth"...) Dad glanced at a news paper that just so happened to be on the page that read "wolf boy dead". His death however was a mystery, I think dad tried telling me that he suffocated on his own hair which I liked, but I'm also pretty sure there was a version where he was leaving Nathans hot dog stand and caught a stray silver bullet.

The End