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From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Different Sort Of Lifestyle 29 (MF, rom)
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Date: Sun, 21 Jan 2007 18:10:03 -0500
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Lazlo Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
---------------------------------
Bored stiff? Loosen up...
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<1st attachment, "Life01-29.txt" begin>
A Different Sort Of Lifestyle
Chapter 29: Best Left Unknown
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2006
Greg sat down at the patio table and took a sip of his scotch.
Dinner was over and he had gone out onto the patio to enjoy a little
quiet time with his wife. It had been nice for the two of them to
have a nice romantic dinner alone and sharing a drink would
extend the intimate mood. Carrying a small glass of sherry, Sharon
joined him at the table. Once she was comfortable, she said, "This
is nice."
"Yes, it is. The weather is really nice for this time of year," Greg
said looking up at the sky. It was slowly changing colors as sunset
approached. The temperature was not as hot as normal for that time
of year.
"Cathy had a very nice day today," Sharon said looking over at her
husband. She still couldn't believe what he had done for their
daughter.
"Oh? What happened?" Greg asked. He was curious about what
the kids had been doing, but Sharon had not wanted to discuss it
over dinner. Cathy had come home just when they were finishing
dinner. Although he had thought it odd, Cathy had helped Sharon
clean up the kitchen. He assumed that it meant that Cathy wanted a
chance to discuss something with her mother and dismissed it. He
had just shrugged it off as boy trouble.
"Well, her young man made her feel real special today," Sharon
answered biting her lower lip nervously.
"Oh? What did he do?"
"He gave her a very special and romantic afternoon," Sharon
answered wondering how much she should tell him.
"Oh." He realized that he was saying that word a lot during this
discussion. His stomach clenched when he realized what his wife
was telling him. There were just some things that a father wasn't
supposed to know. He sighed and said, "I take it that she's no
longer my little girl."
"You could put it that way," Sharon said watching him carefully.
Greg was quiet for a minute while he considered the events.
Daughters were supposed to remain virgins until their wedding
night. Hoping that he wasn't going to have to beat the kid to a
pulp, he asked, "Did that little shit make it nice for her?"
"Very nice," Sharon answered wincing at the tone of voice he used
in asking his question.
"At least he kept his promise," Greg said with a snort. He took a
sip of his scotch and stared at the pool. He didn't really feel like
talking about it. He felt like taking the kid out into the woods and
leaving him there.
"It was nice of you to have him make that promise," Sharon said.
Shaking his head, Greg said, "What I really wanted to tell him was
that I'd cut his balls off if he touched my little girl."
Sharon nodded her head in understanding. She knew that fathers
tended to be protective of their daughters. She said, "I know."
"Where's Harry?" Greg asked hoping that there would be good
news about one of the kids.
"Uh, he won't be home tonight," Sharon answered.
"Why not?" Greg asked sitting up straight in his chair. He had
figured that Harry was at work that evening.
"He's staying the night over at Lisa's house."
Greg stared at his wife for a minute and then finished his drink in
one gulp. Standing up, he said, "I've got to do something about
this."
"What are you going to do?" Sharon asked afraid that Greg was
going to do something to ruin the night for Harry and Lisa. Poor
June had worked so hard to make sure that everything would be
just right that evening.
Greg stopped and turned to look at his wife. The tone of voice she
had used suggested that he shouldn't do anything to break up the
evening. In a quiet voice, he said, "I figure that Jack probably
needs a drink about as much as I need one."
Giving him a soft smile, Sharon said, "You go ahead. I'm sure
you're right."
Greg pulled into the parking lot of the bar that Jack pointed out. It
was the only car in the parking lot and Greg wondered why Jack
had picked this place. The two men got out of the car and made
their way to the building. Once inside, Jack nodded to the grizzled
bartender and then took a seat at the bar. Greg would have
preferred a table, but he sat down next to Jack.
The bartender looked at the two men and said, "You gentlemen
look like your dog died."
Greg nodded his head in agreement and said, "I feel like it too. I'll
take a scotch and make it a double."
In a miserable tone of voice, Jack said, "Same here."
"You look like you have a problem."
"Sure do," Greg answered.
"Well, gentlemen, we need to find out if this is a beer or a whiskey
problem," the bartender said wiping down the bar in front of the
two men.
Jack had gone through this same dance with this bartender before.
Frowning, he said, "His son is making a woman out of my little
girl."
"My daughter had sex with a boy this afternoon," Greg said
following Jack's example.
The grizzled old bartender reached up and took two glasses down
from the rack. While filling them with ice, he said, "Put your car
keys on the counter, boys. This is definitely a whiskey problem."
Greg slid his keys across the bar top and watched as the bartender
poured two scotches. Much to his surprise, the bartender had even
taken the bottle off the top shelf. While pouring the drinks, the
bartender said, "I remember when I caught my little girl in bed
with a man. I was so mad that I threw the fucker through the
window."
The bartender slid a drink across the bar. Greg accepted the glass
of scotch from the man and asked, "What happened?"
"Well, I spent the night in jail. My little girl spent the night
packing. I got home and she was gone. She didn't speak to me for
almost five years," the old man answered. There was a pained look
in his eyes while he related the story.
Jack took a sip of his scotch and said, "That's rough."
"I hope you gentlemen haven't reacted like I did," the bartender
said.
"No. I more or less gave my blessing. I told my wife that I'd rather
have our daughter explore that stuff in her bedroom than in the
back seat of a car. The wife set up a room real nice for the event,"
Jack said shaking his head. He wished he could have taken those
words back, but that wasn't possible.
"Same thing goes here. I made the little bastard promise that he'd
treat my daughter right," Greg said.
"I think you men did the right thing. If you were to do what I did,
they'd lock you up in jail and throw away the key," said the
bartender.
Curious, Greg asked, "So what happened to you?"
"I was lucky in a way. The judge had a daughter, too. He only gave
me six months probation and some community service," the old
man said. He wiped down the counter to clean up some of the
booze that had spilled while pouring and said, "Of course, I would
have been willing to go to jail for six months if I had been able to
talk to my daughter. Those were the worst five years of my life."
"Five years," Jack echoed shaking his head. He was just learning
how to talk to his daughter. A mistake like that now would have
destroyed all chance of them having a real relationship.
"Yes. I think you did the right thing. At least your daughters will
be talking to you tomorrow," the bartender said. He looked at the
two men and said, "That doesn't mean you have to like those boys.
You can growl and glower at them all you want."
That was advice Greg was going to take to heart. He looked over at
Jack and said, "Jack, I give you permission to call my son what
ever names you might see fit this evening. Hell, I've been calling
the little shit that spent the afternoon with my daughter all kinds of
things."
Shaking his head, Jack said, "I can't blame him too much. My wife
and daughter have been planning this thing for a long time. What
do you do when your little girl is all ready to grow up? You can't
stop them. They'll sneak off into the woods again."
Groaning at the reminder, Greg said, "That was a horrible day.
You know, you try to protect them and keep them innocent. You
try to make them happy. You can't do that in today's world. It's
just too ugly."
"Well, my daughter is nearly seventeen and I can understand her
wanting to grow up. Your daughter is fifteen. This must be eating
you up, Greg," Jack said. He'd had enough time to get used to the
idea that his little girl was growing up.
Greg took a drink and noticed that it was almost empty. He set it
on the counter and gestured to it. He said, "I knew this day was
coming. My wife warned me about this a couple years ago. She
told me that Cathy wouldn't want to wait. You see, Cathy takes
after her mother and my wife can be a real passionate woman at
times."
"Same with Bunny," Jack said even though there had been almost
seventeen years in which she hadn't been all that passionate with
him.
Greg looked over at Jack and said, "You know. Your wife kind of
reminds me of a playmate. Was she ever one?"
"No, but she could have been. I couldn't believe that such a pretty
girl would actually marry me," Jack said. He took a sip out of his
glass. The scotch went down a whole lot easier with this sip. He
looked down at his glass and realized it was empty. He gestured to
it with a finger and asked, "Have you got any some advice that will
make us feel better?"
The bartender rubbed his chin for a second before he said, "Every
generation has got to learn the same old lessons. You grow up, get
married, have kids, and then watch them grow up while they are
making the same mistakes as you did. It doesn't matter how smart
you are or how much money you have, we all go through it.
Sometimes things are out of sequence here and there, but life is
just like that."
"They're so young," Jack said watching the bartender refill their
glasses. He'd lost track of how many they'd had.
"You said his daughter was fifteen. Nowadays, we think there is
something wrong when a kid fifteen years old becomes sexually
active. My momma got married when she was fifteen and it wasn't
all that unusual for back then. She was a mother by sixteen."
Rubbing his eyes, Greg said, "I guess we have to thank God that
getting pregnant can be prevented now. At least we were smart
enough to make sure that our girls were protected."
Jack took a sip of his drink and noticed that it was a lot rougher
going down. He frowned and shook his head. He set his glass
down and exhaled loudly.
Noticing Jack's reaction, Greg assumed that it was about
something altogether different. He groaned and asked, "Jack, she is
protected, isn't she?"
"Yes," Jack said. The whole idea of what his daughter was doing
made him ill. He frowned and said, "She's too young."
"My first wife was seventeen and pregnant when I married her,"
the bartender said. He leaned against the bar and remembered
those days. She hadn't been the prettiest girl in the area, but she let
him do things that others wouldn't. He hadn't thought about the
consequences. She had and knew that getting pregnant would be a
good way of getting him as a husband. Shaking his head, he said,
"We were way too young to be parents. We were both stupid. We
just didn't know it at the time.
"There are times when I think these kids today are lucky. They've
got the pill. All I had in my day were rubbers and it seemed like
they broke half the time. It was too easy to get carried away and
have at it without wearing one. That's how my first wife ended up
in the family way.
"The point is that they can play around with each other without
taking the kinds of risks that were common when I was that age.
They won't be forced to make that kind of commitment to each
other when they are still so young and dumb."
Shaking his head, Jack said, "I still don't feel better about what
she's doing."
Greg's nose was feeling a little numb. He reached up and rubbed it.
His nose was definitely numb. Looking over at Jack, he said, "You
can say it. Call Harry a miserable little fucker. Get it out of your
system. I know you want to do it. I can't blame you one bit."
"I actually like the little bastard. Don't ask me why," Jack said. He
tapped his glass for another refill. Even as the bartender was
pouring the drink, he said, "I'm not sure that this is helping."
The bartender laughed at the comment. There was help and then
there was help. He said, "Sure it is. In another thirty minutes
neither one of you will be able to do much of anything. By the time
you leave here, you won't feel much like arguing or saying
anything too stupid. I'll send you home and you'll wake up in the
morning with a headache."
"Oh," Jack said thinking that at least there was a method to the
bartender's madness. He noticed that the scotch was coming from
a bottle that was on the bottom shelf. He also realized that he
couldn't taste the scotch anymore.
"That reminds me," the old man said. He turned away and picked
up a pad of paper. Turning back to the two men, he said, "Give me
your addresses."
"What for?" Greg asked.
"So I can give it to the taxi driver," the bartender answered.
"Oh," Greg said. Even as he said it, he thought that he'd been
saying that a lot lately. Glancing at his car keys on a hook by the
cash register, he gave his address to the bartender. Jack followed
suit.
"Thanks, gentlemen. That'll make it a whole lot easier later on
when you're ready to head home," the bartender said.
Greg turned to Jack and saw that he was standing up. He asked,
"Are you ready to go home?"
"No. I know what's going on there," Jack answered. He stepped
away his chair and said, "I've got to piss."
Greg watched Jack stagger off to the bathroom. Shaking his head,
he turned to the barkeeper and said, "I want to kill that kid of mine.
Do you see what he's done to that man?"
"I take it he's a friend of yours," the bartender said.
"I guess you could say that," Greg said. He took a drink and
thought about it. There weren't many people with who he felt
comfortable talking about his marriage and being a father. He said,
"Our kids ran into that serial killer."
"I remember hearing about that sick bastard. What's happened
with him anyway?"
"His mouthpiece is trying to make out like he's crazy and
shouldn't be punished. Shit, of course he's crazy. You don't go
around doing that to kids if you aren't crazy. That's not a real
excuse. Those boys are dead. He should be dead," Greg said.
"Maybe one of his fellow prisoners will take care of him," the
bartender said. Wiping down the bar, he said, "Makes you wish
they still had the death penalty. We used to fry bastards like that."
"The thing that makes me the maddest is that he might even sue
us," Greg said hitting his fist on the bar. Shaking his head, he said,
"Can you imagine that? He's over there trying to rape some poor
kid and the bastard wants to sue us because my son stopped him
from doing that. It's a sick world."
Jack came back to the bar and took a seat. He immediately took a
drink and laughed. Turning to Greg, he said, "I've got to replace
what I just pissed away."
Greg laughed and said, "It's my turn."
Jack watched him head off to the bathroom. Shaking his head, he
said, "He's sure pissed at his son."
"Sounds like it," the bartender said with a smile.
Jack had decided that shaking his head was not the smartest thing
to do at the moment. The world started to spin a little. Squinting,
he said, "You might want to call the taxi soon. I'm not sure that
I'm going to last much longer."
"What about your friend?"
Jack looked over towards the bathroom in time to see Greg grab a
chair to keep from losing his balance. Smiling, he said, "I'd say
that he needs to get home too."
The bartender walked over to the phone and dialed a number. He
was still making arrangements for the taxi when Greg returned to
the bar. Sitting down in his chair, he said, "I think I passed my
limit."
"Same here," Jack said.
"Probably ought to ask the bartender to call a taxi," Greg said.
"He's already doing it," Jack said.
Greg looked around and said, "This is a nice place. It's got good
company."
"Yeah. This is the guy who told me that women need to hear the
words," Jack said.
"That little shit is always telling my daughter that he loves her and
she eats it up," Greg said.
Looking over at Greg, Jack wondered if he was telling Cathy how
he felt often enough. He asked, "You ever tell her that?"
"She knows," Greg said. He faltered and then said, "She better
know. I'm not going through hell because I don't care."
"You've got to tell her the words. I told you that before," Jack said.
The bartender came over and refilled their glasses. Smiling, he
said, "The cab will be here in twenty minutes."
---
Greg stumbled into the house and looked around trying to decide
what he was going to do. Sharon came out and looked at him for a
minute. She'd never seen him in such bad shape. It made her
wonder how Jack was doing.
Greg looked at Sharon and said, "You're so sexy looking."
Sharon laughed and shook her head. He might be talking sex, but
that wasn't going to be happening with him in that shape. She went
over to him and said, "Let me take you to the bedroom."
Swallowing heavily, Greg said, "I think I'll sleep in the bathroom
tonight. I'm not feeling very well. I think I had a little too much to
drink."
Cathy came out of her room at that moment and saw her father.
Wide-eyed, she asked, "What's wrong with dad?"
Greg looked at her and, his voice slurring, said, "You're not my
little girl any more. I still love you, but you're not my little girl any
more."
"Daddy!" Cathy cried out. At first she thought he was rejecting
her, but then she heard him say that he loved her.
Greg swayed and put an arm around his wife to steady himself. He
said, "I made that little shit promise that he would make it special
for you. I hope he did `cause I'd hate to have to kill him. The little
shit stole my little girl from me. You're a woman now and don't
need a daddy. You've got him."
"Oh, Daddy!" Cathy said on the verge of tears.
"Did I tell you that I love you? I do, you know. I love you so much
that it hurts," Greg said. He wondered why there was suddenly two
of her. His stomach boiled and there was a bad taste in his mouth.
"Oh, daddy!"
Greg looked at Sharon and said, "I think I'm going to be sick."
"Yes, dear," Sharon said and helped him to the bedroom so that he
could use their bathroom. As she closed the bedroom door, she
realized that she'd have to come out and talk with Cathy as soon as
he was in bed. It would take her a long time to get him out of the
bathroom.
Cathy stared at the closed bedroom door in shock. It was hard to
believe that her father was that drunk. It was even harder to believe
that her wonderful afternoon was the reason he was smashed. She
hadn't known that he had made Sam promise that he'd make today
special. Tears were streaming down her face. In a soft voice, she
said, "This has been the best day of my life."
<1st attachment end>
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