Dads
liked me, which was the kiss of death, as far as any girl was concerned.
Did wonders for my dating life in high school.
Later on, in my early twenties, at the time, the only thing Mrs. Dual's father knew about me was that I was a "college dropout", and "had a whole bunch of guns".
And the first time he saw the apartments where I was living, he had to drive the back way through what was then the rundown part of Milwaukee's warehouse district to get my roomate's and my rather posh loft. Apparently he was freaking out, and the future Mrs. Dual enjoying every minute of it.
It didn't last long, I was a perfectly respectful and clean-cut twentysomething who didn't finish school because I never found a good time to break the golden handcuffs of corporate I.T. work. As opposed to his daughter who'd spent four years getting her B.F.A. in -cough(underwaterbasketweaving)cough- theater and only worked retail clothing in the mall.
But, I still managed to freak him out, if only for a little while, and she was the one I wound up marrying.
Funny how that works out.
My four little girls, almost all the same age?
I strongly suspect that after enduring a few years of their puberty, by the time they're dating age, I'll be saying something like: "You have a windowless van, with carpet in the back?.... Great! Here's $100, take the other three with you too!"