NEVER DO IT.
My father and his partner are going travelling for a year and a half, so decided to come and take me out for lunch. Against every instinct I agreed to go, thinking if I can manage to be civil, I at least won't have to put up with it again for a long time.
So we arrive at the restaurant, and it takes a minute for the guy to come and seat us, my father just goes for a disapproving look - all is okay. We order drinks, the waiter brings them out. Mistake two, he doesn't pour out my lemonade, which apparently is 'rude', my father points this out, he apologises and does so, leaving me feeling very awkward.
We manage some general talk, meals arrive. I'm pretty much used to him making some complaint or other about his own meal, but he has the audacity to tell the waiter to take back mine, because it didn't have mushrooms included on the menu. I insisted that I really didn't mind, but apparently I 'shouldn't allow inferior service'. It continued like this, with him making very audible comments about the waiter, the room, the food etc - all of which [the waiter especially] were lovely. Made a huge fuss when the bill came [it was all reasonably priced] and refused to leave a tip. I pointed this out nicely, and he threw down a 20p coin, which I think was probably far more insulting than nothing at all. Walked out with a "not surprised this place is so empty", I tried to give an as apolgetic look as possible.
Anyway, when he dropped me off home I felt entirely justified in breaking my usual civillity, and decided to be blunt. I tell him he was incredibly rude, treated the waiter like complete shit and never once stoppeed complaining about anything.
It felt pretty good. I've never once so much as said anything negative to my father, despite the way he's acted throughout my life, and suddenly I'm the one yelling [actual proper yelling], it stops just being about lunch, and turns into a general rant about how much of a cunt he's been my entire life. And I was totally justified. In fact, it felt brilliant.
That is until the words "You won't be wanting this then! Goodbye", him ripping something up and driving off.
Yes, on the patio was a card with "Something towards your gap year" written in, and a destroyed cheque for £1,000.
I usually agree diaries are the correct places for such things. But I need sympathy. Oh, and I also need to turn this into a question right?
When was the last time you went and lost ONE FUCKING THOUSAND POUNDS?