The parents looked up, but didn’t speak English. My father yelled something in Spanish that finally got their attention.
“This kid is like a wild dog. Did you ever see the movie
“Dad, behave yourself. Do not insult this woman’s son. Obviously, she knows he’s got problems.”
Hitler’s mother came over and at first seemed apologetic, until my father berated her in what I later found out to be Portuguese. Soon her demeanor changed, and she grabbed her son by the arm and led him back to where they were eating, all the while giving Bitch Tits a death stare.
“Dad, what did you say? What is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong with
“Maybe he’s fine,” Shoniqua piped in. “Maybe his face is a mess because his mama whips his ass, because he doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up.”
“Amen,” added Latifa, nodding.
“Amen,” said Bitch Tits, and then high-fived Mama Latifa.
Then he raised his hand in the air and yelled, “I’d like the Chilean sea bass!” I turned to find our waiter was nowhere in sight, and realized the person Bitch Tits was ordering from was one of the hotel gardeners walking by, covered in dirt.
DAY #5
Today I woke up and looked outside to see Dad urinating on a tree. I looked across at Shoniqua’s villa and saw her mother squatted by another tree doing the same thing. It’s amazing how in sync these two are. It’s 9 a.m. I just ordered marijuana from the groundskeeper.
DAY #5-20 MINUTES LATER
Things are really going downhill. I am begging any of you to come here. Shoniqua and her mother leave tomorrow. If left alone with this man for any period of time, I may take out a hit on him. I will not only pay for your ticket, I will also pay for you to bring a friend, a husband, a child, a stranger, whomever you’d like. I WILL ALSO THROW IN AN EXTRA $500 BONUS.
DAY #5-12 MINUTES LATER
Is it wrong for me to encourage Dad to swim when the riptide is at its strongest?
After the last e-mail home, my sister Sidney responded with an e-mail saying that she was on her way and would be arriving the next morning with her three kids. I really needed the backup since Shoniqua and Latifa were leaving in the morning. Moments later Isabel arrived with my pot. Things were looking up.
Shoniqua and her mother were packed and waiting for their taxi the next morning. I walked downstairs and found Mama Latifa and my father in a bear hug.
“All right, Papa Handler, you behave yourself,” she said. “And thank you for everything.”
“No problem,” my father said. “It’s my pleasure.”
His pleasure? In no way, shape, or form had he contributed financially to this vacation. To be completely honest, I wasn’t even sure my father had brought any money. If he had, he certainly wasn’t spending it.
“Good-bye,” I said, and hugged Shoniqua and her mama good-bye.
“Try and be patient with Papa Handler,” Shoniqua said. “And Mama put her massage on your tab. Thanks.”
“You hear that, Chelsea?” my father asked. “She’s right. You need to respect your daddy.”
“Thanks a lot,” I said to Shoniqua as she leaned in for another hug.
“Good fucking luck,” she said in my ear, and then started laughing hysterically as she headed toward her cab.
Bitch Tits put his arm around me as we watched the cab pull away and said, “Chels, I gotta be perfectly honest with you. What I’m really in the mood for is a good slice of pizza.”
“Good luck with that,” I replied, and headed back inside and upstairs to smoke my weed. Isabel had loaned me a pipe to smoke it in, and just as I took my first hit, I heard Shamu heading up the stairs.
“Chels, I’m not kidding about the pizza. All you have to do is get some dough, some tomato sauce, and some garlic.”
“Dad, I don’t know how to make a pizza. I can barely make eggs.”
“What is that you got in your hand there?” he asked as I took another hit from the pipe. “Is that a peace pipe?”
“Yup,” I told him. “I’m smoking the reefers.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” he said. “Maybe they can help you relax a little. You’re very uptight.”
“Uptight” really isn’t a word I think anyone would use to describe a girl who wrote a book documenting all of her one-night stands, but maybe my self-awareness needed a little sharpening. I was staring out at the ocean from the top floor of the open-aired villa, getting high with my father sitting next to me, when it occurred to me that this is what I needed all along. It had been a long time since I had gotten high and it was very strong weed. So instead of everything that came out of my dad’s mouth annoying me to no end, it made me laugh hysterically. He also seemed a bit giggly, and I’m assuming he enjoyed a little second-hand highness.
My sister’s taxi pulled up the next morning and I ran outside. I’ve never been so happy to see kids in all my life. I offered Sidney some pot the first night after dinner, and then she reminded me that she was a parent. But every day for the rest of our vacation, as soon as my dad smelled the reefer he came and sat by my side. These were the best of times.
Chelsea Handler
