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“I’m telling you guys, Philly has become such a goddamn shithole,” Frank said, like it wasn’t already one. Dee held her iced coffee tight and braced for the next time that her asshole of a father-
“Shit!” Frank rammed into the curb at a speed much higher than the ones posted on the signs that he couldn’t fucking read. “See what I’m talking about? All these fucking potholes.”
Dee rolled her eyes and wiped the iced coffee that spilled on her hands onto the seats. She opened her mouth to ask Frank what the fuck he was thinking, but then Dennis began shouting.
“Frank, Frank, Frank! School zone, slow the fuck down!”
“School zones are liberal bullshit, Dennis. Kids are fast. I don’t see why I should have to slow down when they can just jump out of the way. Teaches ‘em street smarts. I am a busy man. I have places to be, whores to bang-”
Dennis grabbed the steering wheel and the car lurched to the right, causing the rest of Dee’s iced coffee to spill onto the floor of Frank’s car. Served him right for being such a shitty driver.
“Jesus Christ, Frank. Pull over,” Dennis demanded.
“Nah. Like I told you, whores to bang.” Frank continued speeding away from the near crime.
“You nearly ran over an entire crosswalk full of children!” Dennis yelled. “And if you weren’t driving so damn fast, we would have been able to pull over, diffuse the situation, and let all of the concerned mothers of those poor kids know that you were the one that nearly killed them. Then I would let them know that I was the one who saved their lives by pulling the steering wheel from your fat, senile fingers.”
“And one of the mothers would be so wowed by your bravery and quick reaction time that she would just have to sleep with you,” Dee finished the rest of Dennis’s story for him so he wouldn’t drag it out for the rest of the damn car ride.
“Thank you, Dee,” Dennis said, evidently not noticing the sarcasm in his sister’s voice. “You see, Frank, Dee is sharp. Definitely not smart, but her reaction times are quick, and she’s capable of anticipating unexpected obstacles and navigating them safely. Her mind is young and fresh, and hasn’t yet been clouded by venereal disease and gas station dick pills.”
“What the hell are you saying, Dennis?” Frank asked.
“I’m just saying that your mind isn’t what it used to be. You’ve probably noticed by now the lapses in memory, misplaced items-”
“You calling me senile?” Frank asked. “Because I am not senile. I am as sharp as the bullets in my glock.” He began digging in his pants pockets for said glock, taking one of his hands off of the steering wheel in the process. “I’m not letting you pull a fast one on me with that power of attorney, pull the plug as soon as possible bullshit.”
“Frank, if I wanted to kill you, I would have already. And I would framed Dee for it so we wouldn’t have to split the money. I’m just saying that your driving is unsafe and-” Dee rolled her eyes at her brother’s comments, but didn’t say anything, because she’d get him first.
“I am a great driver, Dennis! I do not have a single speeding ticket on my record,” Frank said.
“That’s because you bribe the cops every time you get pulled over!” Dennis said.
“Pigs are corrupt, so I play the corruption game with ‘em. Doesn’t mean I’m a bad driver.”
“You were going sixty in a school zone!” Dee shouted.
“Pretty sure I was going forty, Deandra.” Frank was veering toward the concrete wall on the wide of the road, and Dennis had to grab the steering wheel again. “How about you quit this backseat driving bullshit?”
“Forty is too fast when there’s kids around!” Dee was not about to let this go. It was only a matter of time until he killed somebody, and every dollar he spent on legal fees was a dollar she wouldn’t get once she did finally pull that plug. “You can’t bribe your way out of manslaughter charges.”
“You sure about that?” Frank said, pushing harder on the gas.
“Frank, tell me what that sign says,” Dennis said.
“Sixty. That’s why I’m speeding up, so we can go the speed limit, and not impede the flow of traffic. This is basic shit, Dennis.”
“First of all, that sign says thirty. Second of all, we’re going eighty,” Dennis said.
“Oh,” Frank responded. They slowed down to a less deadly speed. “Listen, I just don’t wanna be one of those old, slow motherfuckers that people are always complaining about! Just because I’m getting up there in age doesn’t mean that I have to drive slow.”
“How fast are you going right now?” Dennis asked.
“Twenty-five,” Frank said with unfounded confidence.
“Fifty-five,” Dennis corrected.
“I got one of the numbers right.”
“You need to go to an optometrist,” Dennis said.
Even though Dennis had been the one to suggest it, he made Dee take Frank to the optometrist's office. Next, she would see about taking him to get his mind checked, to see whether he was senile, or if it was just the usual donkey brains.
There had been a three way screaming match between the receptionist, Dee, and Frank over a $50 copay. Dee hadn’t been sure what side she’d been on, because the receptionist was a bitch, and Frank was an idiot, but now her throat was sore from yelling and her mood was shitty. Frank had settled the matter with fifty $1 bills, so they were finally able to sit in the waiting room and read shitty, celebrity gossip magazines until the optometrist called Frank’s name.
“Can my daughter come with us?” he asked. “I don’t trust you doctors, and I want her to make sure you guys ain’t pulling a fast one on me.”
“Uh, sure, Mr. Reynolds, that will be fine,” the optometrist said, a grimace appearing on his face. Dee’s shitty mood was made slightly less shitty by the fact that the optometrist was cute and young, and not some old guy like she had been expecting. The only thing that marred his appearance was a bald spot, not on the middle of his head like most bald spots, but off to the side. Whatever, optometrists probably made enough money for her to overlook that. When Frank’s back was turned, Dee caught the optometrist’s eye and circled her finger next to her ear in the universal sign of “that dude’s nuts, isn’t he?”. The optometrist curled the corners of his mouth into a tight smile, and Dee knew that she was in.
“First of all, Mr. Reynolds, I’ll need you to sit right here and read the letters on that poster right there.”
“That’s it?” Frank asked. “No funny business?”
“No funny business,” the optometrist ensured.
“Uhh,” Frank squinted at the poster even though he had his glasses on. “L.”
“Frank! That’s an E,” Dee said.
“Well if you know all the right answers, why don’t you tell ‘em to me?” Frank asked.
“Mr. Reynolds, sir, this isn’t how this works-”
“See? There he goes, trying to pull a fast one on me,” Frank said.
“He’s right, Frank,” Dee said. “He can’t give you the right kind of glasses unless he knows how bad your eyesight is.”
“My eyesight is fine! It’s not my fault the numbers are all blurry,” Frank said. “And why are you trying to defend a doctor anyways? You trying to bang him?”
“Just because he’s young and attractive and smart does not mean that I’m trying to sleep with him,” Dee said with a perfectly timed wink at the optometrist, who coughed nervously. She figured that he must not be used to getting compliments like that. Most people wouldn’t be able to look past the asymmetry of his bald spot to see that he was actually a moderately attractive guy.
“I believe that I have all of the information I need for this part of the exam,” the optometrist said, tugging at his white jacket. “Let’s move on to checking your up close vision.”
“I have been having lots of problems with that,” Frank admitted. Dee was glad that he was sparing her some embarrassment by finally cooperating. “I’ve been having my roommate read shit for me.”
“Frank, Charlie can’t read,” Dee said.
“Oh shit. That’s right.” Frank’s eyes widened in realization. “Guess I should stop having him read pill bottles for me.”
The optometrist narrowed his eyes at Frank. “Mr. Reynolds, can you hand me your glasses? I’d like to look at something.” The optometrist held the glasses up and looked at them with an air of disbelief. “There aren’t any lenses in here.” He handed the empty frames back to Frank, who turned to Dee.
“Well would you look at that!” he said with a laugh, handing the frames to Dee. “No, really. Look at it for me. I can’t see it.”
“How the fuck did you lose your lenses?” Dee asked, embarrassed to be associated with this stupid, stupid man. “Those are the things that make your glasses work. That make it so you can see children in crosswalks!”
“Must’ve taken them out so I could bang some ugly broad, but still look smart while doing so.” Frank said, tapping his temple. Sometimes, he made Charlie look like Albert fucking Einstein. “So that’s it doc? We just need some new glass in here?”
“Since you’re here, we might as well finish the appointment,” the optometrist said with a sigh. “Could you sit right here in front of this machine, and rest your forehead right here on this piece of plastic?”
“This shit is kind of freaky,” Frank said, putting his eyes up to something that resembled a large pair of binoculars. “Why the hell am I looking at a hot air balloon?”
“It’s just something for you to look at while we measure the pressure in your eyes. You’ll feel a slight puff of air, but I’ll have to ask you to hold still for this test, so we can get an accurate reading.”
“Got it.” Frank gave a thumbs up. The optometrist pressed a button on the side of the machine.
“What in the goddamn fuck was that?” Frank stood up shouting and jabbing a finger at the optometrist. “That was funny business, and you promised no funny business.”
“That was just a screening test for glaucoma, Mr. Reynolds. Now, I’ll have to ask you to sit back down so we can test the other eye for-”
“You son of a bitch!” Frank had his gun aimed at the man, finger on the trigger. “I’ll put you in a glock coma!”
Dee did the finger around ear crazy sign again and silently mouthed “crazy” to show that she did not condone this stupidity.
“Please sir, can you please put down the gun? I have the combination to the safe if that’s what-”
Dee slapped the gun down, and was glad that it didn’t go off, because it always caused such a scene when it did. “I’m really sorry about him,” she put on her sweetest voice for the optometrist. “He’s getting old, I think he might be senile. I’m sure you know how it is with aging parents.”
“Both of my parents died when I was twelve,” he responded. Shit. This was awkward.
“I ain’t senile!” Frank protested. Dee gestured for him to shut the hell up.
Dee gave what she hoped looked like a sympathetic grimace. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. You know, sometimes I wish he died when I was twelve,” she said with a laugh. The optometrist had a look that she thought was, but really hoped wasn’t, disgust on his face. Maybe she could still save this.
“My face may have wrinkles, but this noggin is as smooth as a pornstar's-” Dee shut him up with an elbow to the ribs.
“Hey, I’m really sorry this appointment didn’t go so well, but maybe I can make it up to you?” Dee offered. The optometrist said nothing, but raised his eyebrows and curled his lip. “We could get coffee or maybe dinner sometime-”
“Get the hell out of my office.”
“So you were trying to bang him,” Frank asked as they moved as quickly, but casually, as possible back to the car.
“Shut up,” Dee said. “He wasn’t even cute. He had this weird, asymmetrical bald spot thing going on. It was so distracting."
“Didn’t stop you from trying,” Frank said. “You really are a Reynolds, aren’t you? Wait ‘til you get to be my age. Then you-”
“Can pop the lenses out of my glasses?” Dee asked.
“Exactly.”