Captain Obvious visits El Coyote.

“So, you’re in your third year of college.”

I blinked at my dad and gave him that You didn’t just ask/say that, did you? look. Captain Obvious strikes again. But, suddenly, it became completely clear why he does that. He that all the time. What is “that” which he does? Point out the obvious for the purpose of creating conversation. It actually works. If you feign interest in something related to the other person, suddenly, you have conversation.

I mean, of COURSE he knew that I’m in my third year. Right? He should know that, right? He wasn’t really asking me. Ha ha. We were sitting in El Coyote. He seems to like taking me out to dinner? *shrugs* Might as well enjoy free food. He doesn’t like going there because, *gasp*, it costs money! OH NO! I pointed out to him that he’s the one that says “If you see any deals for Spring Break, go for it”, and has offered to pay for me to study abroad, and he’s stressing over a car repair bill, or a twenty-five dollar bill at El Coyote? Show some consistency, and lighten up. I told him that when I’m with my friends, we don’t EVER fret about the bill. The bill is what the bill is. We’re there to have a good time. If we run out of money, then, we simply stop going out to eat. Enjoy the moment.

The Van bill. Even I realize how steep it was. My dad was all “What do we need to fix that for?” In relation to the gas guage. If I don’t have a gas guage, it’s utterly foodhardy to drive it any distance that is larger than the tank. Yes, it cost more than Danny’s 1985 Chevy Celebrity. *laughs* But, there is a saving grace. In taking down the gas tank, they accidentally broke the brake line. Which was rusting away. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t having the original brake line from 1988 replaced make the entire thing worth it? Oh yeah, they DID check the rear brakes – they were fine. What causes the van not to move was probably snow/moisture accumulation which froze and just caused the brake and the wheel to stick together. *shrugs*

So, the van runs, and I CAN EASILY TELL HOW MUCH GAS IS IN THE TANK, so I’m happy. The brakes are good, the wheels are good, the wipers I put on before winter. If anything, there’s the oil, but.. I’d say the van is good for a while. Pray something important doesn’t break.

Before going to El Coyote, I asked my sister if she wanted to come. We love the place, and I figured she’d like getting a free meal. She said she and Matt had already eaten. So, Dad and I are about to leave, when he decides to ask Wendi if she wants to come. She says she and Matt already ate. (Gee, that sounds familar.) Dad says he’ll ask Matt if he wants to come. I tell him that he’s already eaten. I think I was able to get him out the door without actually asking him. Quite sad.

He pulls that shit a lot, not just being uberly “considerate”, but double-asking even if somebody else has done it before. It’s insulting. I dropped off the Van last Friday at Country Tire. Told them to check the rear brakes and the gas guage. I would just assume let the gas guage go, since I know how much of a cheapskate my dad is. After all, I’m not paying for it, I have no right to demand it fixed. My dad gets there to pick me up. Guess what he did. Yup, he insisted on talking to Dave and telling him exactly what I told him. Dipshit, don’t you trust me? Fuck you.

The bill came in El Coyote, and he was OMGSOSURPRISED. 25 for two people is average. IT’S GOOD FOOD. Mmm mmm in my num num. That’s actually what Cliff and I spent the last time we went to Chi-Chi’s. Well, we. I know he’s been there numerous times since. Never forget the time the four of us showed up, and one of the hostesses said, “Right this way, Mister (his last name).”

My dad was obviously spacing out. I know that spacing out. I did it once to Cliff, and he’ll never let me forget it. I noticed the girl with the huge breasts. And I saw my dad’s eyes. I’m not stupid.

Me: “What are you looking at, I can’t see behind me.”

Dad: “I’m looking at the clientele.”

Me: “I don’t know, none of the busboys are that cute.”

Dad: “Well, I meant more like the girl with the big jugs.”

Me: “That is so rude.”

Dad: “Well, fine, I can also call it T and A. It’s not rude so long as she doesn’t hear.”

Me: “You’re such a horrible influence, I’m glad I never listen to you.”

Dad: “Well, I’m proud of the fact that I don’t influence you with bad habits.”

(This sound so much worse when it’s typed out. I could read the sarcasm in his voice, you know.)

Yeah, I put up the I’m Better Than You facade, when I know that I notice breasts, too. I suppose we dislike things in others which we see in ourselves. But. He’s been doing this for as long as I can remember. I just never got into the habit of saying anything. Sorry, hearing my dad say “jugs” just makes me uncomfortable. Yes. Me. Me uncomfortable. Can you get your parents neutered?

I have issues with my dad, if you hadn’t noticed. I just don’t like when he acts like that. I don’t feel comfortable knowing my dad does that. My morality buzzer goes on. WARNING WARNING IMMORAL ACT COMMENCING. How to I reconcile my own tendencies with my loath for his? I’d be a fool to declare myself a saint who never admires girls. I admire girls. But, somehow, I don’t feel the need to point it out. It’s my internal compromise. If I do it, and nobody knows, then.. it might as well not have happened at all.

I’m only now getting more blatant around Cliff because, well. He already knows. He knows how I am anyway, and there’s no doubt he noticed far befor I was on to what he knows. So, no point in hiding it. My dad’s too stupid to notice the way I do it. I just have that perception of people. I can tell when they’re paying attention, what they’re paying attention to, and what they’re feeling. Or something. Maybe.

*twirls finger*

But yeah. El Coyote has the BEST nachos and salsa. Beyond any other I’ve ever had. If anybody wants to find it, it’s this little pink building before the 46/206 circle, if you’re coming down 46 West. Remember kids, I do live in New Jersey.