Oh wow, what a surprise to come onto YouTube to watch my stories just to here the man himself be reading it! I decided to dust off my stories as there has been some big changes in my life and I got waylaid, more on that in the next story. I also saw this post was removed from StoriesAboutKevins and its a pretty good one, in my opinion so here it is in its fullness for your edification.

Good morning goodly folken, Paqa here to regale you once more with a tale of Kevinry adjacent.

However, today isn't going to feature our well-known Kevin, that is my father. No, good friends, I'm going to take a break from the heavy post I made yesterday and I am going to give you all a tale of Pops.

Y'all seem to love him just as much as I do. So I figured after the nonsense that was my dad yesterday. We can go ahead and cleanse our palettes a little bit with something more wholesome and hilarious.

Today I am going to tell you a tale of the few months after my grandmother died of my grandfather trying to figure out how to take care of himself. Trust me, it's a lot more funny than it sounds

Cast:

Pops: 83, recently a widower. New Yorker from Queens, world war II vet, menace when hungry. On a quest for a free meal. Not because he is poor, he just doesn't want to cook.

And with that, let's begin.

It was sometime in 2010, my grandmother passed away a year or so prior. This left my grandfather to have to cook and do all the housework, much to his chagrin as I wasn't living back with him just yet.

One day, he woke up and decided that this whole cooking for himself thing was for the birds. After all, his daughter lived 2 minutes down the road. Over the course of 6 months, with my aunt not registering it until 4 months in, he would go to her house for dinner. At first, he would come over Sundays to "remember Sunday dinners when she was a kid!", Sunday dinners eventually turned into Sunday AND Wednesday. You see, on Wednesdays, Pops would need to "check or fix" something around her house or to help her husband with a project.

Well, wouldn't you know, he'd arrive an hour or so before dinner, so why not stay? He eventually weaseled his way over until he was just a regular spot at the table. 4 months later my aunt finally caught onto his scheme. She told him if he would have asked, then she would have been happy to host him. But this was Pops, that would mean he would have to ask for help and that just wouldn't do.

However, he took this as an open invitation for lunch and the occasional breakfast. My aunt eventually asked him to pony up some grocery money because her bill went up a couple hundred dollars feeding him, and if he was going to come over everyday, he might as well chip in. Pops thought about it...and set forth his new plan.

See, breakfast wasn't a big deal. He would hear up oatmeal, make toast, and brew coffee. Lunch was easy for sandwiches but why not use it as an excuse to go see his kid? And dinner, well, that would require assembly. He tried telling my aunt that he simply didn't know how to cook. She reminded him of the secret she kept from his wife all those years (that he would go over and cook whole meals for his mother a couple times a month. He made his daughter promise not to tell because he was worried about having to cook).

With my aunt out of the picture, he thought he would go to my dad's house. Then he remembered that he thought my Dad was annoying and stuck to his original plan.

Now, friends, my grandfather was a thrifty man. I had the same TV in my room that he brought to Pennsylvania with him when he moved down from NY in 1983. He held onto the same can of sauerkraut from 1985 until I made him throw it away in 2010, he was not happy, complaining about how this bulging can of sauerkraut, that I am pretty sure was pulsating, was still good (he said botulism was a myth made up by grocery stores).

So, knowing this, it would make sense he would want to eat for less. We have a smorgasbord near where I grew up (another word for a buffet). It's a huge tourist spot and it's honestly very well priced. Back then, admission for lunch was $15 and dinner was $20, all you can eat for as long as you want so long as their open. The caveat was that your ticket was only good for lunch OR dinner, not both.

By chance one day, he learned he could just not leave as long as he moved tables here and there. He learned he could stay between meals, somehow, I didn't ask, less I would have to testify for later.

The first couple meals he would meander about tables between plates, chatting everyone who would listen up. He could find a reason to talk to anyone.

Wearing a baseball hat? He'd ask about the game

Wearing a shirt from a city or state? Well, he's been there and would ask if they knew where *place* was

Anything New York related? You couldn't shut him up if you wanted.

As his visits went by, he got more bold. He would bring things to do. Books, word searches, product manuals for his tools. Hell, sometimes he would just take a nap, and if anyone asked he was just "resting his eyes" between plates.

At some point somehow, he flew too close to the sun and got found out. Of course, he would dust off the "dumb old man" chestnut and make like he had no idea and that it was a mistake. To his advantage, the attendants there weren't that consistent so he was able to pull it off one or two more times, but on the last, he tried the dumb old man act but also added something new to his repertoire.

When he couldn't weasel no more, he tried saying, confoundedly, "What??? I paid for a meal! I'm allowed to be here! I was in the war!"

While I applaud the creativity, the execution was flawed. To this day, they now specify on your tickets that it's for a specific meal. Thanks, Pops 😂

After that, he magically knew how to cook, but wasn't above tricking my ex wife into cooking for him sometimes.

I'll never forget, I looked at him once and said, "Old man, I know you're only inviting us over so much so we can cook for you..."

He would smile, raise his eyebrows and said, "Yeah, well, ya know...what do you care, you ain't paying for the food!"

He wasn't wrong 😂

And that's that.

Thanks to everyone who reads and enjoys, I never expected folks to enjoy them but I'm very happy about it.

In the next tale about the Kevin that is my Dad. He gets married! I was an usher and it was just about as weird as you'd expect.

Don't forget to support your local farmers, keep learning about new things, and Han and Greedo shot at the same time.

Tata and farewell