BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 312
wanted to screw her myself. Of course, I had no such noble intention as marriage. I only
wanted to get laid. I hadn‟t, at that time, ever had sex with a pregnant woman, which is a
time of delicacy and caring, and a helluva lot of fun. It‟s also worry free with regard to
things like child support. Sort of a double jeopardy thing, I guess.
When he wasn‟t drunk and living who the hell knows where in the north end, or
married to the floozy du jour, Unc normally wound up living at Grandma‟s until he could
get his shit together. There was a small second bedroom, which he often used, and the
entire basement was actually made into an apartment.
However, Grandma didn‟t want him living down there because he could sneak in
drunk and skip the ass chewing. When he slept fifteen feet from her room, she‟d hear
him stagger in and go chew his ass for him. That did almost as much good as standing in
front of a tidal wave throwing rocks at it, but Grandma must‟ve felt it was her motherly
duty.
Unc once borrowed one of our cars to “run an errand”. My ass! He wanted a
way to his favorite bar in the north end and didn‟t want to walk three miles or more in the
freezing Michigan winter. Mom gave him two dollars, (gas was 5¢ per gallon, as a
reference), and made him promise he‟d get some anti-freeze for the radiator.
He didn‟t. Unc put the money in his tank, instead. His belly, that is, at the bar.
The temps hit around zero that night and the block cracked in the car, making it a piece of
junk when we needed it as transportation.
“Hey, a guy‟s only human, ya know? Get off‟n my ass about it!” he explained.
Unc always had an answer for everything.
Once, when I was ten, he was again trying to dry out, so he was staying again at
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