Phone rings.
Me: Hello?
Dad: Oh God, Ces, I’ve got this fuckin’ red rash on my right cheek that’s spreading across my whole goddamn face ever since I went to that thieving bastard dentist again who makes a fuckin’ mistake every time he puts that drill in my mouth and now I have this huge abscess that won’t stop growing and it hurts every time I poke at it so fuckin’ much I can’t even put my head on the pillow so I didn’t sleep at all last night I woke up at 2 am and then 2:30 and then 3 am and 3:30 and 4 and 4:30 and then five and then 5:30 and then six and then I finally fall asleep only to have your mother wake me up to tell me she made breakfast for me and when I get out of my bed my back locks up and it’s killing me and as I’m walking down the hallway I bang my fuckin’ knee against that table I made for your mother Jesus you never felt such pain and that knee’s never been good ever since I tried to kick your brother in the ass and the son of a bitch got out of the way and I smashed my foot against the brick wall so by the time I limp to the kitchen the fuckin’ coffee’s weak because your mother already put milk in it even though I keep telling her not to but she never listens to me just like you and Marcello never fuckin’ listen to me why doesn’t anyone ever fuckin’ listen to me?
Me: Who is this?
Dad: What the fuck are you talking about?! It’s me! Your father!
Me: I know, Dad. I was just…sooo…an abscess, huh?
Dad: Oh dear God, it’s fuckin’ killing me, Ces. I should have just punched out that dirty rat fuck dentist in the face so he would know how it feels!
Me: Okay, okay. You have to relax, okay? I’m sure it hurts like hell and I’m sorry. But the first thing you need to do is have the abscess checked.
Dad: It’s fuckin’ killing me!
Me: That’s why you have to have it checked.
Dad: But what if it’s too late?
Me: “Too late”?
Dad: Y’know, what if I’m going to…die…
Me: It’s an abscess, Dad, not a gun shot wound.
Dad: I don’t want to die before everyone else!
Me: Wha…Get it checked. You’ll be fine.
Dad: I haven’t even recorded my rap songs yet!
Me: You’re not…wait, you want to record your rap songs now?
Dad: I even came up with a hippity-hop name.
Me: Hip-hop.
Dad: I even have a hip-hop name–“F.O.G.”
Me: “F.O.G.”?
Dad: “Fat Old Guinea”
Me: Oh, Dad. No…
Dad: So I can’t die now!
Me: You’re not going to die!
Dad: You don’t understand, Ces. You don’t! An abscess keeps growing! It keeps growing and growing and growing until it moves all the way up your nasal passages and attacks the brain!
Me: What?!
Dad: It just spreads across the whole fuckin’ brain! My fuckin’ brain, Ces!
Me: I…I don’t think that’s exactly what happens, Dad.
Dad: Why don’t you ever fuckin’ believe me, Ces? Why doesn’t anyone ever fuckin’ listen to me?! I know these things!
Me: How, Dad? How do you know these things?
Dad: I just do! Just like I can always guess what ethnic group someone belongs to.
Me: You…you don’t still do that in public, do you?
Dad: Plus, a friend agreed with me about the abscess.
Me: A friend? Who?
Dad: Y’know…what’s-his-name.
Me: St. Augustine?
Dad: Don’t be a fuckin’ wiseass! Y’know…begins with an “M”…Morty!
Me: Morty.
Dad: Morty said an abscess goes straight into the brain if you don’t catch it in time.
Me: Morty the typographer.
Dad: It attacks all the nerves and cells. Before you know it you’re dead.
Me: Perhaps you should seek medical advice outside the defunct typesetting industry, Dad.
Dad: You gotta see how red the rash is!
Me: See a doctor, Dad.
Dad: It hurts so fuckin’ much, Ces!
Me: Have it checked, Dad!
Dad: Hurts every single time I touch it…
Me: Well then don’t tou…
Dad: I just knew this would fuckin’ happen! The moment I went back to that thieving rat fuck dentist I just knew this would happen! No good lying son of a…
Me: Dad! Dad!!! Before you start signing pre-need papers maybe you should ask yourself one thing. Just one thing. Do you really know what an abscess is?
Dad: I know it’s gonna fuckin’ kill me!
Conversations with Dad 