Tribulations of the youngest son

            When you are the youngest of 3 boys, you live your life with a bullseye on your back. It is inevitable; the older boys will always make you the brunt of their jokes. I took more than my share of beatings over the years, but that’s fine, it just made me tougher. At the time, some of their gags were horrific, but looking back at it now we can all laugh.

            I remember one time; they stripped me naked and locked me out of the house. Then they started hollering out the windows to get peoples attention. They were brutal at times. But the worst part of the situation is that the jokes don’t end just because you become adults, at least not in my family.

            When I was getting ready to transfer from community college to a 4-year school, my oldest brother Dave coaxed me into applying to SUNY Fredonia. His job had transferred him to western NY and he didn’t really know many people in the area. He had gotten a really nice apartment directly in the center of downtown Fredonia, and I got one a few blocks away. Since we were both new to the area, we ended up spending a lot of evenings together.

            His apartment was on the 3^rd floor of a building that overlooked a large parking lot. I can remember at least 10-15 occasions when I would be just about to enter his building, only to get drenched by a bucket of water he threw out the window. This type of stuff never got old to him. By the time I would get into his apartment he would still be dying of laughter. Then, I would change into some of his clothes and we would have a few beers or play some cards. I had never really gotten to spend much time with him over the years. He is 8 years older than me so he was always out with friends or away at college. It was the first time that we actually got to be friends, and I loved it.

            Anyways, this one day we went to Applebee’s for dinner and drinks. While we were waiting for our food, we heard some commotion across the restaurant. All of the servers had assembled at one of the tables and were singing “Happy Birthday” to some bashful little boy. He had reddish cheeks and a slight grin; you could tell he was happy, but a little uncomfortable.

           A few minutes later, our server passed our table and my brother stopped her. He quietly whispered something to her; she nodded and began to walk away. Now, knowing my brother and his games, I knew damn well what he had just said to her.

             I quickly stopped her again and said; “Listen, I know my brother, I know he just told you it’s my birthday and to sing to me. It’s not my birthday, I promise.” I quickly pulled out my wallet and produced my driver’s license. “See”, I said “It is not my birthday, please don’t sing to me”! She laughed, agreed, and then walked away. “Nice try Dave”, I said. He just started laughing, as always. You always got to keep your eye on that guy, he’s sneaky.

            Anyways, about 10 minutes later I start hearing a bunch of clapping all around me. The entire server staff had assembled at our table and placed an ice cream sundae in front of me. Then, they proceeded with their normal, humiliating ‘Happy Birthday” song.

            I was extremely pissed off. Why the hell would this stupid server still allow this to happen, even after I showed her my I.D. and pleaded with her? I sat there with my arms folded and a furious look on my face the whole time they sang. My brother was sitting across from me ready to explode in laughter. I didn’t understand how he had still pulled this off. As soon as the servers left our table-side, my brother burst out into laughter. He loved it, his face was all red and he couldn’t stop laughing.

            Then, a couple minutes later, one of the other servers approaches our table. She has an angry look in her eyes and she gets right in my face and says; “Next time you want a free sundae, just ask! So we don’t have to fucking sing to you”! She stammered away and I was left sitting there completely bewildered and appalled. I look over at my brother and he again begins whaling in laughter. He almost fell out of his chair laughing so hard. The tears were streaming off his cheeks; I’ve never seen him laugh so hard.

            A few weeks later I realized that I needed to get a car to get back and forth to campus. Problem was, I didn’t really have any money. I ended up getting a 1983 Buick “clunker” from a garage sale. Yep, a bought a car from a garage sale for $300. It was the ugliest thing I had ever seen, but it drove. It had an 8 track player in it and it smelled like old lady. I remember it breaking down before because it ran out of oil. I would make sure to get to campus at odd times and park far away; it was really embarrassing to drive. Dave would make a fake, car alarm ‘locking’ sound when I would get out of it, he thought it was hilarious.

            Anyways, this one time I was leaving his apartment and he missed me with the water, I had caught on by then. I’m glad I did too because it was like 2 degrees out that day. I was walking towards my car when I seen this really attractive girl walking towards her car. Of course she had to be parked right next to me, how embarrassing. Suddenly I hear Dave holler from his window; “Hey Dan”!

 I turn around and reply; “Yea”?

“Nice car”! He yells.

           

             

            Whenever I would try to play a joke on Dave, he is such a poor sport. I was at his apartment one day and he didn’t know it. He would be getting home from work soon and I had a big bucket of water waiting for him at the window. I was so excited to finally get my revenge, I was giddy. I waited by that window for 20 minutes before I seen him pull into the parking lot. He began walking towards the apartment and I had the bucket all lined up. Then, for some reason he stopped. He turned around and went back to his car. Finally, he emerged from his back seat with a large amount of clothes, fresh from the dry cleaners. I knew that if I dumped that bucket on him it would ruin all of his perfectly pressed work clothes…and he would probably kill me.

           

            Some people say that being the youngest has its advantages, but I’ve never noticed any. All I ever got was 2^nd hand clothes and black eyes. And now that I’m big enough to fight back, they don’t want to fight me.