The Fredo Factor, continued

In case you were wondering what happened to my family member’s response, it took the length of the week to get a reply. Here it is:

“These are matters that should be discussed in person.”

That’s it. One sentence. Nothing in writing, eh, and this is supposed to demonstrate that I have any basis for trusting you? I layed it all out on the line and you’re afraid to commit back with “I guess you’re right” or “I’m sorry you’re feeling this way” or anything other than a neutral, legalistic response? Don’t worry, I’m not admitted to the NJ Bar and it’s not testimony, anyway, you dick.

I replied, “Okay. When, where and who.” Cause I’m f*cking tired of it already.

The reply had to do with an even I was supposed to be a part of, a legal event, after which I’m invited to dinner at his house. His turf. Nope, don’t think so. And, it’s scheduled for a time that I couldn’t possibly attend. Another game. I reply in time to get a response and so far SILENCE. I’m not surprised. What a maroon.

So, today, possibly in the evening when I know he’s been drinking, I might call and bang on him. I just read a great article on bullying that may have some techniques I can try out.

In the meantime, my lawyer’s ready because I knew this is how it would turn out. Steal my money, fine. Side against me, your family, fine. But don’t insult me and further, don’t insult my mother, you f*ck, by betraying her trust. Oh, sure, your next sentence will start with “I’m not . . .” but, damn you, STFU because I don’t want to hear it.

Liar.