Read Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea Online

Authors: Chelsea Handler

Tags: #Relationships, #Autobiography, #Man-woman relationships, #Humor, #Psychology, #Form, #Form - Essays, #Entertainment & Performing Arts - General, #Entertainment & Performing Arts, #General, #Topic, #Family & Relationships, #Personal Memoirs, #Human Sexuality, #Biography & Autobiography, #Interpersonal relations, #Essays, #Sex, #Biography

Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea (22 page)

BOOK: Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea
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His pleasure? In no way, shape, or form had he contributed financially to this vacation. To be completely honest, I wasn’t even sure my father had brought any money. If he had, he certainly wasn’t spending it.

“Good-bye,” I said, and hugged Shoniqua and her mama good-bye.

“Try and be patient with Papa Handler,” Shoniqua said. “And Mama put her massage on your tab. Thanks.”

“You hear that, Chelsea?” my father asked. “She’s right. You need to respect your daddy.”

“Thanks a lot,” I said to Shoniqua as she leaned in for another hug.

“Good fucking luck,” she said in my ear, and then started laughing hysterically as she headed toward her cab.

Bitch Tits put his arm around me as we watched the cab pull away and said, “Chels, I gotta be perfectly honest with you. What I’m really in the mood for is a good slice of pizza.”

“Good luck with that,” I replied, and headed back inside and upstairs to smoke my weed. Isabel had loaned me a pipe to smoke it in, and just as I took my first hit, I heard Shamu heading up the stairs.

“Chels, I’m not kidding about the pizza. All you have to do is get some dough, some tomato sauce, and some garlic.”

“Dad, I don’t know how to make a pizza. I can barely make eggs.”

“What is that you got in your hand there?” he asked as I took another hit from the pipe. “Is that a peace pipe?”

“Yup,” I told him. “I’m smoking the reefers.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he said. “Maybe they can help you relax a little. You’re very uptight.”

“Uptight” really isn’t a word I think anyone would use to describe a girl who wrote a book documenting all of her one-night stands, but maybe my self-awareness needed a little sharpening. I was staring out at the ocean from the top floor of the open-aired villa, getting high with my father sitting next to me, when it occurred to me that this is what I needed all along. It had been a long time since I had gotten high and it was very strong weed. So instead of everything that came out of my dad’s mouth annoying me to no end, it made me laugh hysterically. He also seemed a bit giggly, and I’m assuming he enjoyed a little second-hand highness.

My sister’s taxi pulled up the next morning and I ran outside. I’ve never been so happy to see kids in all my life. I offered Sidney some pot the first night after dinner, and then she reminded me that she was a parent. But every day for the rest of our vacation, as soon as my dad smelled the reefer he came and sat by my side. These were the best of times.

BOOK: Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea
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