The Coke Story
I’m not actually old, but I’m feeling older. I’m almost 30 and I always thought that as long as the outside looked ok, I would be fine. I thought the body was a warning panel but I’m a beat up old car on the inside.
I didn’t get my oil changed on time, and instead of gasoline I’ve been running on cheeseburgers. A family of birds is nesting in the engine.
By the way, if you ever feel old, don’t complain to someone who is actually old. You’re just patronizing at that point.
So I was complaining to my dad the other day, who is old, and it got weird.
I was like yeah I just abused my body when I was younger. He looks at me and he goes “Yeah we all did.” and he takes an imaginary puff of weed.
and then the conversation ended before I could correct him like “No. I didn’t do drugs. I did Taco Bell. That’s way worse. Marijuana comes from the earth at least.”
Which is not the first time my dad admitted that he’s used drugs, but it’s the first time he did it on purpose.
One day I was at his office, and we’re trying to get this guy on the phone for a show. It’s me, and like 5 or 6 of his co workers all in a tiny room and the guy is dodging calls, and he picks and says call me back in 5 minutes and doesn’t answer again.
My dad hangs up the phone and goes “This guy reminds me of when I did coke.” – Everyone laughed and then got silent and looked at me. My dad turns around and goes “well. Whoops. hah. ehh? Hi son!”