*Beeeeep* (October 3, 2008)

My father is a very paranoid man. He's a prison guard for the federal government, and has been for the past 27 years. He's worked in maximum, medium and minimum institutions. He has seen the scum of the earth. He's had shit flung at him, has had to intervene countless times from stopping one inmate from killing another, had his life threatened one or 1200 times. At one point in his career he was attacked by a full blown AIDS victim who was bleeding, and who was trying to infect him as well. Luckily he wasn't infected, and that this was an isolated incident. Raising 2 daughters and working in that environment was not easy I'm sure. I can fully appreciate and respect his paranoia. I'll add here that I got all my stubbornness from my mother...because dad still has his.

The extent of his paranoia is driving me CRAZY. About 70-80% of any phone conversation I have with him, the phone beeps. It's actually him unintentionally pushing a button on the keypad. I can relay the conversation that follows. Every. Single. Bloody. Time.

*Beeep*

Dad - "What was that?"

Me - "That was you dad. You bumped the..."

Dad - "No. It was not me. I know where my fingers are. It was you." (If he *knows* it was me, then WHY did he ask me what it was?)

Me - "No dad. It was you. This only happens when I'm talking to you."

Dad - "This only happens when I'm talking to YOU. You need a new phone."

Me - "Sigh. Ok. Then buy me one. But what are you going to do when *it* beeps again? You gonna keep buying me new phones? Maybe it's your sausage fingers combined with your 1990 cordless. Ya think?"

Dad - "What was that? Did you here that? I think I can hear people talking..."

Me - "Sigh.. Dad? Turn your TV down."

Dad - "Oh."

Dad - "Wait! Can you hear that?"

Me - "Hear what? You having a major brain fart?"

Dad - "I didn't raise you to be such an asshole ya know. I'm serious. What's that noise?"

Me - *straining to hear the little voices that may or may not be speaking to my semi delusional father* "No dad. I hear nothing."

Dad - "You know, I heard that So and So was released from prison not to long ago. I'm pretty sure I'm on his hit list with a few others... I wonder if that c*cksucker (dad's oh so very favourite choice of nicknames)has tapped my phone. Jebuz H Christy. I'll empty a few rounds into that effer if he comes here, I'll tell you that!"

Me - "Dad! OK! Calm down. Fine. It was me. I bumped the friggin number 9 with my inherited sausage fingers. You're going to give yourself a freaking aneurysm or something."

Dad - "Nope. With today's technology it would be SO easy to tap into someones phone line. I wouldn't be surprised if we're being listened to right now. That beeep was probably the tapper thing being turned on."

*beeeep*

Dad - "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?!"

Me - "Dad! Move your hand you old fart. If it's not your hand then it's your chin or something. You know what? I'm gonna let you go. I have to, um, go do something. Ok?"

Dad - "Fine. But when I wake up dead cuz some c*cksucker knows I'm home because of this phone call, I'm gonna haunt you! Goodbye!"

Me - "..."

*beeeep*

Me - "Dad? DAD!"

Dad - "Yeah?"

Me - "You didn't hang up. You hit a number key again."

Dad - "Aww for eff's sake! Gad dang c*cksucking mofo! Jebuz H. Christy..."

*CLICK*