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.
Did your parents ever pimp you? I mean, help you make friends?
What are you doing for New Years?
TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS.