One time, on a ski vacation, my dad tried to pimp me.
Maybe that’s misleading. He was trying to find me “teens my age.” That was always his thing. Not always teens, but always kids my age.
My dad loves meeting people more than the average person loves meeting people.
And from his days selling both Catholic bibles on the Lower East Side and encyclopedias in Hawaii to supplement his army income, he’s also quite comfortable with a door-to-door approach.
So that’s how he’d meet people for me.
When I was little, in Stamford, Connecticut, where we spent weekends, he would go knocking on neighborhood doors, either with me and my sister cringing behind the farthest possible tree, or all by himself. With his clip-on sunglasses in the flipped-up position, he’d ask, “Hello. Are there any children here?”
You can imagine how that might go over. I don’t think he found a lot of takers.
But he never gave up.
And that’s why, on a family vacation at a Breckenridge, Colorado ski resort when I was 15, a stranger knocked on our door. I was in my apres-ski Bennetton sweater and powder-blue, snowflake-pattern long johns, which I guess looked OK, because the teenage boy standing there when I opened the door nodded his head approvingly and said, “Oh shit.”
“Hi?” I asked.
“Yeah, hey there.” He had a twang. “I met this old guy in the hot tub, and he said I should come up and meet his daughter. Said she wanted to make friends. This guy was talking to everybody in the hot tub. That was your dad, right?”
He hadn’t said anything about it, but of course, that was my dad.
The guy, who wasn’t bad looking, asked if I wanted to meet up later at the video game room.
(Every good ski resort had a video game room. If it didn’t, I wasn’t staying there.)
I went down with my sister. While she played Centipede, I leaned against the Space Invaders machine and chatted with the guy while he played. He was very aggressive with the “Shoot” button.
He said he was going to Texas, A&M, an “aggie” college. I said, “A what?”
The rest of our conversation went like this:
HIM: “So what are you up to here? What do you during the days?”
ME: “Um…ski? Why, what about you, what — um, what are you doing?”
HIM: “Playing video games and fucking.”
He turned to look at me with his eyebrows up, a face that said, “you in?”
I reported this conversation to my dad, and I believe that’s the last time he tried to meet strangers for me, either door to door or in a hot tub.
Now you.
Did your parents ever pimp you? I mean, help you make friends?
What are you doing for New Years?
TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS.
This shit aint even funny. Ive been had so hard. So damn many times. A mother fucker wants to pimp me, my kids, my friends( against own will) my family. They are at somepoint going to have to go through my personal CHECK POINT BITCH. and that YOU CAN BET ON. dumb ass qutter dweling small brained mother fuckers cant put their own damn shabby shot out asses on the hoe sale specials line. Then get the fuck out of line. Better yet. Get your sucker fish parasitic ass out of the store. The End Jerk Wad. Keep your swivel assed neck out of my framed family photo FRODO Pho Posser ass bitch.
Got an email from Laura and clicked on this link. So I’m responding from the future, January 2, 2016. Everyone’s happy in this thread, because they don’t yet know that Donald Trump is in their future as president. Love, love, love Lane.
This is sort of in keeping with all the dystopian T.V. series my wife and I are bingeing on now. When it comes out two years from now, do not miss Chance, starring Hugh Laurie. Wow. Also, I hear that The OA is very good. Incorporated isn’t bad, either.
I know Laura loves T.V. above all things, except maybe her husband (and eating?), but my first binge was really disturbing to me. I realized that with all the incredible shows out on various apps like Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon, I could LITERALLY
(which can mean NOT literally since millions of people have misused this word to the point where they’ve bludgeoned word purists into submission and its now accepted to use literally as an intensifier to mean, “Listen up, I REALLY mean this, LITERALLY.”)
spend my ENTIRE life in front of our big T.V. and never get up even to pee. Christ!
Anyway, I was VERY shy around the age you’re speaking of (early to mid teens) and I think my parents tried to “pimp” me out, but very mildly. Also family and friends of the family who were worried about me, with some reason I might add. I curdled under the experience.
So, finally my father, who was the polar opposite Laura’s gregarious Dad, ordered me to go on “sociability exercises.” I had to meet, or make contact, with X number of people, kids my age, that day and report back. I actually think I tried, but can’t remember any details, because underneath it all, I WAS gregarious. It’s just that I was hemmed in by thinking I was the only one going through whatever I was going through and VERY easily embarrassed.
I never pimp out my daughter because she makes friends anywhere–and I mean, good, decent people who love her–in about 13.2 seconds. On the subway. In the library. Walking down the street. We called her the Pearl Mesta for her high school, if that dropped name means anything to you.
Hi Laura,
I just met your dad (not kidding) and he totally is pimping you out again. He told me about the bible sales and how he had a girlfriend in California.
I work at Baruch College your dads alma mata.
I love the sight and as I type this message he is sitting here laughing at how you have immortalized him on this blog.
Take care
Eileen
OK, Eileen, that’s hilarious. I believe you. This is no scam – you really met him. (I know not just because your evidence is compelling but also because he’s already forwarded some email from you very randomly.
I know this sounds crazy but I have a memory of going with you to that house — not Lakeridge which I have a more solid memory of — but the other house. I think you were going to get some things from it as it was being sold but maybe I am wrong.
I don’t know if that’s possible! Or maybe they sold it after they bought the Lakeridge house. That was in 1990, I think. OK, will do some investigating.
My husband should meet your Dad, too. Oh wait………So THAT’s where he learned how to “pimp” our kids! It went on until just a few years ago. He finally stopped doing it after Jamie found his own wife. But he still sits in the hot tub at a nearby resort talking to everyone. The resort should hire him to be their social director/hospitality chief. In fact, just a few HOURS ago he invited another tourist to dinner. He even invites strangers to sleep at our house. (Why should they have to rent an expensive room at the resort?) Happy New Year! Remember the days when we used to ring in the new year together? Hope to see you soon.
Joanna, they are two peas hatched from the same hot tub. In the same youth hostel.
I do remember ringing in the new year together. Who started the tradition of popping raisins at midnight? Was it Henry or my dad? Must’ve been something one of them picked up in Spain. Among other things they probably picked up.
Happy New Year!
xoLaura
Laura, my husband should meet your dad…besides trying to pimp my kids, he loves company. In fact he would have company for dinner every night of the week..”.whats the big deal?” Yeah grab a glass of wine and have lively conversation, forget about cleaning, cooking etc. So your dad and Joe can talk and your mom and I can drink our pinot.
BTW I grew up in Stamford, HP did til she was about 10..where did you stay?
Happy new year…
Barb, you’re right! They should meet. My dad takes it one farther: he likes to invite houseguests any day of the week. What’s the big deal?
Re Stamford: my mom inherited her parents’ house where they retired, which was at 90 Wake Robin Lane (off of High Ridge Road?) It was our “country” house from the early 70s till about 1990. We lived for Friendly’s and Brock’s. And the fro-yo at the A&W restaurant at the mall. Our Chinese restaurant go-to was called Chin’s.
Also, belonged to Twin Lakes Swim and Tennis.
Colorado boys are always “playing video games & fucking”. Sometimes at the same time.
I lived in Boulder for 15 years – does this make me an expert? I thought so.
I’m cracking up about the Bennetton sweater.
I also love Bennetton.
If you lived in Boulder for 15 years, your video-and-fucking game must be tight!
I am an expert in Bennetton sweaters.
Happy New Year!
Haha!! ” “Playing video games and fucking.” Could that statement be more 80’s?
I don’t remember my parents pimpin’ me out, but I totally pimp both my kids out.
“Hey. Yea? You skate? You’re in a band? Love all things Japanese? –I think you and my son could totally hang out.”
Ok, it may be mortifying to the 16 year old, but the above example actually worked and they’re making some video together now. So…there you go. (It helped that they already kind of knew each other through mutual friends.)
I’m sure that my son loves that I’m always telling him that when I was his age, all of my friends would have had total crushes on him. I was “80’s alternative” and he’s a brooding, vegan, green-haired skate punk/mod/something. Don’t call him any of those words though, he hates labels.
It’s trickier with my 18 year old daughter, because basically, everywhere I go, I just see guys that I know she’d think is hot.. Instead of trying to set her up, I take creepy, undercover pics of them and send them to her and say, “I just found your future boyfriend.”
Pimpin’ the kids out. Love it. Gotta keep it interesting with the parenting thing. If you’re not embarrassing them on a daily basis, you need to up your game.
What the hell?? I’m the only one who’s commented?
How can people not be responding to an email that has the subject matter, “My dad, the pimp”??!?!? It drew me in. But then, I’m sitting in front of the computer, waiting for something to draw me in so that I don’t have to do whatever I’m supposed to be doing.
There is NO accounting for what people comment on and what they don’t. Unless we’re taking New Year’s Eve into account. Maybe they’ve taken the day off from engaging with blogs, because they’re resolved to do it EVERY SINGLE DAY in 2015.
There’s also the consideration that others have a life and I don’t. Meaning they have plans, and I don’t. Which I have specifically made plans to not have plans.
Unless a date with Netflix, roasted cauliflower, grilled fish and wine counts. And in that case, I definitley have plans.
Lane, you’re the rare parent who has a good eye for cool people. Though did you and your girlfriends really want to meet a vegan when you were that age? The rest of him sounds like a hot prospect, though.
Haha!! I should answer this after I have more than just one glass of wine. It would be more interesting.
Vegan? HELL no. Although I was a vegetarian at that age. Vegan is a fucking pain in the ass to cook for. Remember, I’m pretty alternative and (barf) holistic in my eating and I still hate cooking for him!!
But he’s a little hottie, so the girls can look past his screwed up eating. (Hee her)
Maybe I’ll be back later to entertain after a few more glasses.
HERE’S TO 2015!!!!!!
That was supposed to say hee hee. But my dumb ass iPhone spell checked it. AND there’s the fact that we STILL can’t edit our posts.
Here’s to hoping in 2015.