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12-29-2017, 09:23 AM
To quote that deceased Sigma friend of mine whenever he had News with a Capital N: (Sharp intake of breath) "... WELL!"
Bill and I spent a good 15 hours the other day clearing up the Housing Commission property that my Gamma Friend was leasing, before he abandoned his son and took off for the Northern Territory. (His reason for doing so is pure Gamma and a story in itself).
This involved multiple three-wheeled cars on blocks; garden sheds full to the brim of pizza boxes; couches left out in the rain; weeds above my shoulders; feral kittens seemingly-fired out of kitty cannons shooting past us every few seconds; and discovering fungi forests under mouldy mattresses. We were so tired by the end of the day that, after taking turns having showers where the water turned black, we both lay down on the two couches in the lounge for a break, and, well, didn't wake up until the next morning.
My girlfriend had thrown blankets over each of us. "You both looked so tired that I didn't have the heart to wake you."
On Christmas Day, when Bill and I arranged to do the job, my Stepfather had big noted himself to all and sundry about how "we" (meaning him as leader) could knock off the job "in no time", and saying how it would help The Kid. Unfortunately, when we rang him on the day, he made excuses about how vitally important it was that he sorted out something hobby-related that morning, but he'd be over later.
"Is it his toy cars, or his toy helicopters, or his little bow and arrows?" Bill sneered. Due to the forced proximity over the Christmas break, my stepdad's Gamma Bullshit had really gotten on both our nerves, and even Bill was able to see it everywhere.
"Notice he can't just buy a beginner bow and arrow. It has to be the bestest piece of equipment that was ever bested."
I nodded. "$1500 before you even know if you like the hobby."
"$1500 and you don't even fuckin' hunt with it. They shoot Foam Animals." He made a hand wanking motion.
I can shrug that off though. I'm used to Gamma. I knew an out of control one who lived in Brisbane who would constantly brag about his special computer gear that he only got through his close, personal contacts in Silicon Valley that even if you wanted one you couldn't buy because it wasn't released to the public yet and it might be years away for mere mortals like you. The guy was proud the other Bikers had given him the nickname 'TF', never learning it stood for 'That Fucking Kevin', which is how, with a curled lip, anyone ever referred to him as.
I can see, however, that Bill is still in the "What is this shit?" stage, where he's trying to make sense of Gamma's behaviour, and, being Sigma, his contempt was growing the more he thought about it.
"Like, why the fuck does he have three computer monitors? Fuck man, he's not that fucking important."
I chuckled to myself, because, he's observing all this on his own.
"And..." he continued, "Have you noticed he's always the star of every story he tells? Like you'll tell me a funny story about your girlfriend, or The Kid's dickhead dad, or your hot sister." Ash flick. "You know your sister is hot right?"
"... and I want to poke your daughter." (She's 30, and I do). "Get to the point."
"Look, yesterday, he's telling me about all his trips overseas, and everything is about how he saved the day, or everyone would have been lost if it wasn't for him. It's the prawns all over again. You should get your hot sister to make him a little superhero cape."
"Even she sees it. She calls it 'What he wishes happened'."
"Ah yeah, so he's telling me about driving on those highways where the speed limit's 150 miles an hour, but it was all so easy for him, even though the car was a left hand drive and he'd never driven on the opposite side of the road before, and how if a faster car is coming up behind you in the middle lane, you head left or right to let them past.... blah fucking blah... and the whole time, I'm thinking 'yeah, and you were sitting in the back seat the entire time as someone else drove the bloody thing'."
I laughed as I clicked my fingers. "Spot on, mate."
So, you can see how Bill's Sigma Disgust for Gamma has been gradually coming to a boil even before the morning after he didn't show up when there was hard, dirty work to be done
Which is why when my girlfriend came out with cups of tea for both of us and pulled the front curtains, her telling us that "Your stepdad's truck is outside," made Bill and I both groan simultaneously.
"I'll make him a quick coffee, but I don't want him hugging me," she said, resolutely, "I'll leave it on the kitchen bench and then I'm going to have a long shower."
Bill and I shook the sleep out of our heads then picked up our teas, grabbed the extra cup after it was poured and headed out to the back verandah. My Stepdad is a loud talker, (because he's trapped in a cycle of being too loud because he's being ignored and being ignored because he's being too loud), so it's always best to move him outside, where the sound isn't echoing off every wall.
He came around the corner, looking surprised to see us, but I just said, trying to set a lower volume on his speaker: "The Kid's still asleep."
Fat chance.
"I need to borrow your chainsaw," he said, dropping down next to me. He's got his own chainsaw but Bill happened to mention the great deal I got to him on a better chainsaw than his before Christmas, so, once again, only the best.
We talked for a few minutes, and I explained how the house had been cleaned up yesterday so The Kid shouldn't have any problem with the housing commission. "I just figure I'll take him in. It's not his fault his dad is a dickhead. In a way, I'm continuing Mum's tradition of collecting strays. She always said we were responsible for those around us."
Now, you have to understand, my Stepdad is Gamma, so he's anything but Christian and Vocal about it. (Aurini knows where this is going: "Flying spaghetti monster! Imaginary Sky Fairy! It's a crutch for the weak!" etc. Every time he rolls of these rehearsed spiels off like it's the first time his audience has heard him tell it, or is interested in his opinion on religion to begin with).
It did get to me a while back, so I'd dryly floated the opinion that, given the cross-cultural, seemingly-worldwide belief in some kind of God or God figures, maybe Atheists simply had some form of Spiritual Autism. He looked like someone had slapped him.
So knowing all this, my ears immediately pricked up when he said "You're doing the Christian thing."
This is new.
He continued. "... I'll probably be doing it myself soon." (Note the qualifier... probably... which he'd be using to start the script he wants to write in his head.
I recognised girly "Will I / Won't I Tell" Bait again, but didn't take it, so the conversation drifted on to spiritual matters, which I've never heard him talk about before, other than in the militantly-negative, so I was curious, but I could already predict the solution to the change of heart: his 'mysterious visitor' from Christmas Eve must be religious.
The conversation was much as you'd expect. He was trying to talk on a topic he obviously had no true belief for. Now he was saying how 'nasty' atheists were, and how they'd become 'a cult in themselves'.
This isn't his opinion, I thought. He's heard someone else's opinion and thought it sounded like something a smart person would say, so he's repeating it.
That he swerved into 'how he'd been reading Greek Philosophy' and how much he had learned from it spiritually.
And then I recognized what he was saying, because I remember having a conversation one night with my sister when he was in the room, where I said how I'd been reading my friend Quintus' translation of Cicero and was struck by how often it seemed in sync with Christianity. (Which is why I asked Quintus if he'd be kind enough to recite the Prayer To St Michael in Latin for my Sister).
My stepdad, basically, had quietly-listened, took it in, then rehearsed this to re-deliver like it was his own idea. Basically, he was trying to strike my pose, like it was his own and that I wouldn't notice).
I casually called his bluff. "I have some books a friend translated if you're interested in reading further. The translations are w..."
Too fast. "...No-I-don't-need-them-I-was-reading-them-online."
Bill smirked to himself behind my Stepdad's back as he rolled a cigarette.
My Stepdad went on. "... and they helped a lot after your Mum died." (She passed away eight years ago after going into a coma on Christmas Day). "This is always a bad time of year, and I just don't know what I should do."
"How so?"
"Well, what do I do with your life now?" Teary eyes. Bill had his mouth hanging open behind my Stepdad's head.
"Live." To me it's really not any more complicated than that. Whilst I'm not unsympathetic, she died eight years ago, and we knew it was coming for seven years. I can keep my shit together about it, and I knew her a lot longer than he did. Besides, it's hard to take this kind of grief seriously when someone was inquiring about the possibility of chocolate biscuits with his coffee five minutes earlier.
I explained that I found the process of looking after her immensely-rewarding: that by her returning to the child state I got to repay the debt of her burden of care during my childhood; that it was a good education to not have time to focus on only myself and my wants for so long; and that it was an honour to walk alongside someone on their final journey to get them where they needed to go, understanding you have to make the journey back alone, which, in turn, strengthens you and makes you understand death is a natural part of life, a completion of a cycle, rather than something to be feared.
Bill shot me a thumbs up, but my Stepdad obviously didn't listen to a word of it, because he immediately changed the subject, and, almost instinctively, I knew he was going to spill the beans.
He explained about his friend Bobbi from the Archery Club, and how they were such good friends with each other, and could tell each other anything, and how they have coffees and chats together each week, and how she's currently having treatment for her cancer, but how it's good because then she understands what he's dealing with with losing my mother and they usually end up crying on each other's shoulders.
Yeah, I know this one, he's basically her girlfriend, and doesn't understand it.
Of course, I immediately thought to myself "I think her facing a slow death by cancer is a little more serious than you feeling a little bit sad now."
"Why does this always happen to me?" he said.
I know that one too. The Teenage Gamma friend used to say that one all the fucking time.
I, very tactfully, suggested that perhaps going through what he did with my mother has given him the coping skills and resilience to make him strong enough to be able to be a rock for her to lean on in the face of such difficult and scary circumstances.
No, it's all about him.
"No, we can hold each other and cry together because we're so close."
... whatever that means in Gamma World...
Remember, this is a 58-year-old man.
I, very less tactfully, suggested that women prefer their men to be emotionally-strong to allow them to be weak and talk about their problems, "given what she's facing."
Bill nodded, then said "And you can have a beer and ignore them as they do, and they'll still love you for it."
My stepdad deflected again. "She's worried about her son..."
... so she has a kid...
"... and her husband doesn't know how to handle things at the moment... she can't talk to him the way she talks to me..."
OH FUCK.
"... so maybe they need some time away from him. She told me on Christmas Eve, we were standing out the front and we talked and cried and supported each other so much. I know [his Mum] was inside, but when she said 'Aren't you going to show me around?' I took her inside and gave her the tour."
Bill threw both hands up in the air.
Do I jump to the higher branch?
I was starting to think about exactly why he was crying on her shoulder, and what he was saying as he did so, but the picture was still forming.
"... so maybe they'll stay with me for a bit. It's the Christian thing to do. Like you taking in [The Kid]."
As Bill said later, "The fucking hide of that cunt.... trying to make out he's doing it from the goodness of his heart like you are. The difference being you're not trying to slip The Kid a length."
I can instantly see he's ready to break the promise he's made to both my mother and sister about the house for the chance of some (admittedly dying) pussy.
Fuck this.
"You know," I said. I think that's a wonderful idea."
He smiled, so I continued.
"Think about it. You've been through the process with Mum and so know she's dealing with and how to handle the hospitals and chemo, and, well, if her husband is struggling with how to process this, you should move him in too. There's enough room. Maybe the gift Mum taught you as she died was the blessing of strength, and you could use that strength to keep that family together for the child's sake. Jesus would be proud."
He stammered, uhm ahh umm ahh, desperately trying to find a way out of that.
Fuck you, you creepy cunt. The woman is dying, for fuck's sake, and her emotional world is turned upside down and he's only thinking about proving what a nice, selfless guy he is enough that she throws him a fuck.
And then it occurred to me: this is exactly what he did with my mother. She was having a hell of a time with Dad, the marriage was crumbling, and she took my Sister and I and fled the home with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Then, suddenly, my Stepdad was always around and always in our faces, which is why I ended up running away from home for about eight months, because I couldn't stand the guy, and didn't want a new Dad.
My mother later told me "I was dealing with so much at the time, and trying to start a new life and figure out how to look after you two. The last thing I needed was this guy hanging around me, pressuring me for a relationship, but he wouldn't go away. He was always there trying to help even when I didn't want him there. I just wanted time to think and sort myself out." Apparently they didn't consummate the relationship for five years, and he didn't mind.
Now I could see that's he's targeting another emotionally-vulnerable woman on the verge of breaking up with her husband in exactly the same manner.
... but it gets even worse...
Now he was really-teary eyed and said "Why does this always happen to me?" (Note he's the focus, not her cancer).
Trying to be polite whilst really fucking annoyed I said, "I don't think life has it in for you."
Of course, I immediately thought back to the standard manosphere line on women complaining about their procession of lousy boyfriends: "You know the commonality here is you."
Gang: if you think we've hit bottom, no, we're still going down.
"No, you don't understand. Lena..."
... was a workmate who had a new baby, and whom he'd constantly go on about how 'comfortable' she felt breastfeeding around him and she'd just flop it out like 'nothing was wrong' and because anyone listening felt awkward and uncomfortable and immediately changed the subject, he'd think he hadn't been heard, so he'd keep bringing it up, again and again, to the extent my sister said "He sounds so creepy when he won't stop talking about her breastfeeding" and then a mutual friend said "Oh, so you've heard the titty story too? It's so obvious that he's jealous of the baby getting to suck on her funbags."
"... Lena and I were going to be a couple..."
No you weren't.
"... even though she had Cancer..."
What the fuck?
"She was having problems with her ex-husband. He was violent and threatening her and the baby and then she got sick. We were always crying together about it. She told me I was such a nice guy."
Oh I'm sure they cried, but it was obvious she was just a workmate that, obviously once again he was targeting because she was in an emotionally-vulnerable place.
"... but in the end she said she had too much else to deal with to have a relationship with anyone..."
Good for her. Note she didn't with you.
"... at this point in time."
It's not you, it's me. Friendzoned.
"Then she took leave from work. I've went over there a few times but she was never home and then she patched things up with her husband."
Remember how I said Gammas in the Workplace are Sexual Harassment Suits waiting to happen? It's entirely possible going back to an abusive husband is less scary for a woman that constantly-wondering if the Gamma who just won't get the hint is creeping around outside their door.
Suddenly, I understood. He cries in front of these women hoping that the false intimacy of a sympathy hug translates to sexual attraction.
Or, as Bill put it later, "He's putting his left arm out for a hug, but the right arm is down at snatch level, each time creeping that little bit closer."
Then the offensiveness of it really hit home.
He's using the death of my mother to try and trick girls who are already dealing with heavy life shit into feeling sorry for him so he can get laid.
Where can really you go in a stepfather / son after realising something like that?
But, oh no, he wasn't finished yet.
"My first girlfriend, before your mother..."
The first time this has ever been mentioned to me in the entire family history. I always assumed he was a 30 year old virgin.
"... I met her just before she died of cancer."
My girlfriend, later: "Is he physically-trolling the chemo wards?"
I think that's about when I went into shock. Bill's face said it all. Luckily, my girlfriend popped her head out the door (and only her head) to say she was running late for work and could my stepdad move his truck, which was how I could make excuses for Bill and I to get the fuck away from him.
Thankfully, he took that as his cue and left, as my girlfriend drove around the block, then came back, since she had the day off.
Before I could even say "We owe you one," the kid came out the back door. He's got that whole whole awkward Michael Cera thing happening where he's either pausing or blurting out a stream of words. "So... I was just lying in bed and... listening... and well... did I really just hear all that?"
"You did," I said.
"What did I miss?" my girlfriend asked.
"Silence of the Lambs." Bill snorted.
"Sir..." The Kid always calls me Sir, no matter how many times I've told him to use my name. "It's like... I mean... I know he's your Dad..."
"Stepdad!" Bill and I said together.
My girlfriend was grinning in anticipation. "I've missed something good, haven't I?"
"No, it was bad." The Kid rubbed his fingers nervously. "... he was saying all that like... well... like he didn't understand how badly he came across."
"You're a lucky bastard," Bill said to him. "If you keeping hang around with us, I damn well guarantee you'll never turn into THAT."
It's bad when a 17-year-old kid has a Gamma's number.
-----
Later on that day, Bill was trying to make sense of what the fuck happened. "No, what the fuck what the fuck on top of what the fuck?"
"It's his sexual strategy."
"His whatchama what?"
"Look, if we want to ask a girl out, we can walk up and ask her out."
"As you do."
"And if we want to fuck, we'll ask them if they feel like a fuck, or it'll happen with no-one having to say anything."
"Worst pickup line I ever used mate: 'You got any Blackfella in you? No? Lay down, and I'll fix that for you."
"Did it work?"
"Fuck no, but I fucked her friend."
"My point was... Yeah, we don't beat around the bush..." He went to open his mouth but I said "Don't go there. The thing is [My Stepdad] can't."
"Why the fuck not?"
"She might say no."
"I can see that. He thinks he's much better than he is but he don't have much going for him. No woman is going to want to climb on that for a ride. Her saying no would mean he couldn't pretend the prawns were all his idea all along."
I found that hilarious. Bill doesn't know the term Gamma, but he's got it exactly-pegged.
"Same thing with The Kid's old man," I said. "He and I would pop into this bakery every morning where this farrrrrrking hot girl worked..."
"...As hot as your sister?"
"... and she obviously had the hots for him big time. All goo goo eyes as she handed over his meat pie. But he'd never make the move and would barely-talk to her. One time she started a conversation with me, and that was the end of it for him. He said she 'snubbed' him, and why would she talk to you and not me..."
"Ah yeah, she was using you to get closer to him?"
"No shit! This is high school stuff. But no. She was now 'a snob', and because of that, he never went into the bakery again."
"So she was ready, wet and waiting..."
"...and he couldn't close the deal."
"That's fucked in the head."
"Completely."
"You know your Stepdad is fucked in the head as well, don't you?"
"Not in his mind. He thinks he's being a hero to those women. A 'nice guy' offering them emotional support."
"He's only making their problems worse. What a fucking weirdo. You need to fuck that man right off. You've got your girlfriend and the Kid. I can be your 'granddad'."
"I always hoped for one a little more respectable."
"I just need to find a grandma and you've got the whole family ready to go. D'ya reckon your sister would marry me?"
I think Bill crossed the Sigma's Gamma Disgust Threshold, and, as such, my Stepdad is no longer a curiousity to ponder.
I crossed it myself. How do I interact with the man after all of that? Any suggestions? Could there ever be a worse Gamma story than that one?
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