The Drunken Pressman

This project requires a bit of an explanation: My father has the worst sense of humor. Well, he’s a father, so that’s to be expected. His humor is compounded in the car (he’s old enough to have caught the tail end of the greaser style), so when I’m driving he always has a few stock critiques of my driving. In high school, his favorite was, “Hey, you want me to write you an invitation to go?” if I ever hesitated to turn onto a road from a stop sign.

In high school, I was riding shotgun with my girlfriend, who also happened to be a horribly careful driver. I’m talking grandmother-with-a-walker safe. We were at a stop sign, and she hesitated to turn, kept hesitating, and I eventually got tired of it. Without saying a word, I opened the glove compartment, pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen, and start writing. My girlfriend, having ridden in the car with my dad knew exactly what I was doing.

“Are you writing me a damn invitation to turn?!”

Indeed I was. Now, more than a decade later, we’re still friends, and she still remembers that moment as a highlight out of all the times I pissed her off. This one’s for you Brenda, expect a nice set of these in the mail for Christmas.

***Edit, had a nice typo in the last one, I’ll have to correct that with my next round of printing!