Dude, he stole my car

I had planned on writing about the biggest failure as an adult but decided on writing something else instead

 My dad stole my car once. He drove over four hundred miles just to steal my car. Sounds bad…My dad the car thief. The whole thing started as an idea of my mother’s. She didn’t have a thing to do with the car being stolen but she did have something to do with the events that led up to the car theft.

I was seventeen and living with my dad at the time. He wasn’t very happy with me because I had been fucking off quite a bit. I had been working for pizza hut and bought a little Subaru from a co worker for four hundred and fifty dollars. I only had my permit at the time so I couldn’t drive the car without a licensed adult driver.

My mom called me and said that she wanted to go to Idaho and wondered if I wanted to go with her. I said I did so we approached my father about letting me go and about taking the car. He had some misgivings about the whole affair but said that if my mom was willing to accept responsibility for me we could go.  

So we drove from Oregon City to Nampa. I say we drove but the reality was that my mom drove the whole way even when I asked to drive she said no…I was kinda pissed but I let it slide. We got to Nampa and proceeded to get fucked up. Getting fucked up occupied a lot of the time we spent over there. We were smoking pot and snorting crank in large quantities.

One day about a week after we got to Idaho I was itching to drive my car so I badgered my mom until she said ok. Finally I was going to get to drive. I got behind the wheel and started driving. I already knew how to drive I started actually driving when I was nine years old, so I knew what I was doing. After about five minutes my mom started freaking out, telling me to pull over and let her drive. I told her no and kept driving. About three seconds later she cold cocked me’ she actually punched me straight in the face, three times.

I was driving about thirty miles an hour when she punched me so I couldn’t react then she hit me again and again. I kept my mouth shut and pulled over at my sister’s place and told mom the get the fuck out of my car. I stopped just long enough to get her out of the car then I took off. I remember it just like it was yesterday, mom standing on the side of the street as I left in her only mode of transportation.

I then went over to my buddy Brent’s house and proceeded to binge for the next five days or so. I don’t have a lot of recollection about what I did those five days I remember the day I went to sleep. I was exhausted, having spent about a week and a half wide awake on meth I had worn myself out to the point I could barely keep my eyes open.

I went to sleep

About five the next morning my dad tried to wake me. “Chris you can come with me right now or I am going to leave you here.” My reaction was to say I am sleeping, just let me sleep. So he left. I thought it was just a dream until I woke and went outside and saw my car was gone. My dad feeling like it was his responsibility grabbed a buddy and drove the four hundred miles to get the car from me.

I say my dad stole my car in jest. He actually wanted me more then he wanted the car but knew he couldn’t force me to come home so he did the only other thing he could to keep me out of trouble, he took the car. Needless to say I was pissed off. My dad stole my fucking car...but As an adult now thinking back I am just glad he didn't kick my ass for being such a fuck up. 

Chris McQueeney    4/7/15