Honestly, I’ll be the first to admit the shocking truth about my household that we’re not the quietest family on the block. A few years ago, when I was a young, energetic lad, I came home after soccer practice hoping to relax in peace. Upon placing my key in the hole and opening the back door, I heard a commotion. Not hearing one would’ve had me in a fretful state. As I walked closer to the next room where the noise was coming from, I saw foreign objects flying in every direction. A timberland boot came close to ending my potential nose modeling career. (Phew!) The source of all this friendly destruction was of course my older brother. Don’t let me scare you all away. He’s a swell guy. Not crazy or anything, just emotionally unstable at times, but my siblings and I have realized he just acts like he’s crazy around us so we respect him or fear him because he’s the man of the house. (No one really fears him, he’s such a cutie!) Judging from my observations in the few moments I had been home, I hypothesized that he was a little angry. And my mother was yelling at him in three different tongues. She kept saying “Just pick up the phone and call them!!” It seemed that he was “wrongfully” charged a late fee on one of his credit cards by some no name company. And things became quite vulgar but I’ll do my best to recreate the events in a family friendly way. And it wouldn’t be fun reading a story like this: @!&$*&#@$*$*$&*$&@*&*&@@@%@&@&**&$ !!
My brother replies,” I’m going to call them and I’m going shut the whole company down, fudge this, I’m going to fudging tell those mother loving lovers off! I’m not paying them crap!” This tough guy rant carried on through Wheel a Fortune, past three Daily Doubles, and well after Final Jeopardy. Finally, the moment of truth, time for action, no more talking (to us at least), he picked up the phone, dialed 1-800-AmericanExpressYourself. His face was beet red (Personally I never really enjoyed beets, but I’m told they’re an excellent source of iron) and full of anger and fight. His fiery eyes sent my siblings upstairs out of fear from possible blindness. My mother and I watched closely, and prayed for the poor soul who was about to pick up the last ringing phone they’d ever hear. Judgment day arrived, we could hear a voice on the other end, most likely thanking my brother for calling and asking how she could assist. And then it happened…
In the most gracious, kindest, friendliest, sweetest, and politest voice I’ve ever heard out of any living creature, my brother says, “ Hi, I was just calling because I recently received a letter stating that I was going to be charged a late fee for a payment. There’s seems to be some sort of misunderstanding because I certainly sent a payment and I always make my payments. Oh my god, thank you, no thank you, no you’re nicer, no you hang up first, okay, same time?” A few giggles and smiles emerged and my mother was half way to a heart attack prior to the phone call, surely this occurrence was going to drop her to the floor and I had completely lost all sense of feeling in my face. My jaw dropped and saliva oozed out of my mouth like a running faucet. WHAT JUST HAPPENED! Two minutes ago, he put his interior decorator hat on and turned our apartment into Beirut of 84’ and now he was acting sweeter than a PBS character. I thought the door bell would ring any moment and Billy Crystal would walk in, say something funny, and hand my brother a golden statue. What a performance! He took a bow and normal services presumed.
My brother walked upstairs, and my mother and I almost broke a few ribs laughing so hard about what he had just witnessed.
This epic is told when everyone is gathered together near the fire at my house. What Beowulf is to literature can be compared to what this story means to my family; An Epic poem.
- jadsirrelevantrelevance posted this