Went to my Dad's 70th birthday party last night.
I wasn't looking forward to it. I haven't even seen my siblings for years despite the fact that two of them live close by. As for my cousins etc. I couldn't even pick them out in a line up.
Anyway, he'd rented a large Hotel/Conference type thing. It was a bit like the hotel from The Shining but in Summer and with angry Spanish servants knocking about.
I don't have a great relationship with my Dad due to historic differences between us but we both try and make the best of it while we can. My mother and he had a very prolonged and acrimonious divorce a long while back. Things never totally recovered in the family dynamic if you know what I mean. Shit still bubbles just below the surface and it shows on occasion.
Now my sisters are annoying as sisters are but we get on pretty well.
My elder brother and I get on ok despite our very different lifestyles. My brother, he loves guns. He spends his days shooting clays. Pretty much all of his days shooting clays, and he's gotten pretty good at it too.
As I'm sure you can imagine, the average full time clay pigeon shooter generally holds similar political views to the next one and tolerance of alternative lifestyles isn't really ever very high on the agenda. The other thing about my brother is that he's always had a tendency towards extreme violence when put under stressful conditions. I've been on the receiving end of it. He doesn't fuck about. He just tries to end you.
Now my nephew, aged 24, hasn't really had a very testing existence. He lives in London. He dresses like a sex offender and generally ponces around a lot whilst being sponsored by his wealthy stepfather.
Now sadly I wasn't there to witness it first hand because I had removed myself from festivities to the further reaches of the grounds. This was due to having just been on the receiving end of a personal slant from the Spanish manager because he's taken umbrage at the fact that I'd been getting booze from the bar staff and giving it to 16 year old 'children'. Some of them my own. Anyway, apparently the Spanish cunt was worried about his licence or something. I couldn't really see his point of view at all and he went and got a bit personal about it. My wayward hand was involuntarily balling into a fist and, for the sake of events, I decided to cool off before I twatted the cunt.
Whilst I was elsewhere breathing deeply (such maturity-I'm so proud of myself), my nephew, (the ponce), was trying to convince my brother to join him on the dance floor. He likes flailing around in front of people and shit.
Now my brother, (the right wing fundamentalist), doesn't much care for dancing. He also doesn't much like to be grabbed and pulled at. Particularly when he's already told the individual that's tugging at him and shrieking in his ear to fuck off in no uncertain terms whatsoever.
Unfortunately in this instance the ponce persisted. My brother, who was otherwise engaged deep in conversation with his fellow potential murderers, no doubt about very important stuff like who has the best shotgun and what to do with all the foreigners after brexit, got a little bit stressed out.
It's always the same.
First the eyes go funny. Then he starts shaking. And then he tries to strangle you to death. No-fucking-about-at-all. Hands locked around your throat, crushing the very life out of you whilst those dead grey eyes look through you and beyond to a world where you're just a fleeting memory.
Luckily for the ponce. On this particular occasion there were just about enough concerned parties nearby to remove the vice like grip from his scrawny neck.
But the damage had been done.
The ponces' mother (my sister) attacked my brother and was repelled by my brothers girlfriend (who also loves guns). The ponces' stepfather looked on confused because on the one hand he had seen a way to relieve himself of the ponce but on the other hand people expected him to be angry about it.
The shit had hit the fan. People left vowing never to speak again. My father looked on sadly, uncomprehending why this shit always happens around him. Then he poured himself another large glass of wine and settled in for the evening.
My kids, having never been to a such family occasion before, thought it was just about the best thing ever.
).
