Friday, September 08, 2006

The Island of Misfit Toys

I just woke up. I had a real nitemare.
In case anyone needs to be reminded, I live on Staten Island, New York now.
I grew up here and I have not been back in about 22 years.
I had to pick up some stuff today with the owner of the place I work at. She drove; and we passed a few familiar locations.
(Actually, i know the whole fucking island by heart, but these streets seemed new and old to me)
We rounded a curve and cruised down a street, but the rounded curve had me transfixed in a way.
When i was 5 years old I peed on my brother as we were playing on the stairs. My (ahem) father was watching us because it was my mothers bowling night. His great parental skills led him to pack a small suitcase that we had with all my stuff and take me to this location on Staten Island. It is the home of a girls private school called St. Joseph's Hill Academy, but I did not (of course) know that then. It's a creepy (at night) location and he told me it was an orphanage. He dropped me off there with my little suitcase and took off.
After I shit my pants and cried he pulled up.
Happy Fathers Day.


Bart said...

Good story. Sick story. It's weird to look back on that little person that was you, is you.

mickeyitaliano said...

thanks write so eloquant (even if I can't spell it)

Anonymous said...

You know what, that story made me totally sick!

I grew up with Italian parents. My dad, God rest his soul, was great. My mother is and was a nightmare!

Just this morning, I had this flashback of my mother beating me when I was in third grade. She actually came to the school specifically to beat me. I'm 43. It's like, get the fuck over it already!

Anyway, MickeyItaliano, I feel your pain.