CXXI. God, Brad. December 30, 2023

>driving Lyft

>it’s Parents’ Weekend at FSU

>everybody’s Mama-n-them are in town

>I pick up a man my age

>and his college-aged daughter

>and her drunk and obnoxious boyfriend

>everybody is over the boyfriend’s shit

>especially Dad, who sits up front with me

>he has the hangdog stare of a man who hates his life and foresees his daughter hating hers

>the boyfriend cannot take a hint

>nor can he read facial expressions

>nor will he shut up for any reason

>in front of us, stuck in traffic, is a giant white pickup truck

>lifted

>tires taller than my car

>its back window is festooned with some sort of Punisher MOLON LABE tough guy horseshit

>as we sit there

>the truck’s driver sticks a two-foot, anatomically correct black dildo out his window

>wiggles it around some

>floppity-flop and so forth

>then settles into twirling it lazily clockwise

>just twirling his dildo out the window

>as one does

>the girl is the first of my passengers to notice

>she says “Oh my God is that—“

>”YES” snarls her father, and we know by his inflection what he means

>he means “Shut up about it for Christ’s sake before dipshit notices!”

>but it is too late

>dipshit has noticed

>he says “Holy shit bro is that a fuckin’ dildo?”

>girl yells “YES IT’S A DILDO GOD BRAD WOULD YOU SHUT UP FOR ONCE?!”

>Brad does not shut up

>Brad instead spends the rest of the ride asking her why she’s mad at him