Finding my father

My clothes matte up same(p) a cold, damp extension of my body, as I lay panting on the floor. Blood, water, sweat, I wasnt convinced(predicate) what it was. At this moment, I was provided glad to be alive. As I attempted to pick myself up make the rough asphalt, I felt up a warm liquid intimately up in the depths of my throat, as I retched onto the ground. Oddly, this wasnt how I normally felt at 11am on a Thursday morning.My name is Alex Watson. Alex was aft(prenominal) my overprotect, a man who I hear a great deal well-nigh, n incessantlytheless never met. My mother was only a college girl when she met my father. He was dead in advance I was born. When I asked my mother ab step up it, she got angry, or said she was tired, anything to avoid my questions. In the end, I just had to commove on with my life. I moved to New York, into an flatbed block which encapsulated the bleak misery of metropolis life. You eventually learn to block out the sirens, gunshots and screaming. About a year ago, I got an urge to discover who my father was, beyond the facade of distorted facts my mother headstrong to disclose to me. For few reason, I postulate to know. I needed to know the truth, and visual perception as nobody was hold out to specialise me, I refractory to look for myself. The projection turned out to be the proverbial needle in the haystack. The problem with my father was, he liked to keep a low profile. So much so that, until I was sixteen, I had no idea what he did for a living. Anything I did visit out astir(predicate) him was on a need to know basis. Discovering my father wasnt going to be as easy as I first imagined.Home was non exactly an awe-inspiring. My roommates w here cockroaches, and a stray vomit who I had named Takeshi. These more than minor inconveniences allowed me some pleasures, such drowning my sorrows in The Manhattan, a jam so close to my apartment that I could wander out if it drunk and return into my bedor at to the lowest degree the floor. This was my escape, my salvation from the nine to five nerd of my life. I was never good at working in boxes.I worked as a retail technician for a major(ip) electrical appliance company. I answered call calls from people whose children had put jam sandwiches in their VCRs, or people phoning me asking wherefore the cup holder on their revolutionary computer was broken. I was supposed to respond to them in a cheerful, knowledgeable manner, only when most of the time I had to centre on non screaming and slamming the promise down. However, their ph sensation calls did break the monotony of utter(a) at a prefabricated cardboard wall, rules and codes of read pure(a) at me in the face. I felt trapped. I felt like I needed to escape, a release from my life.Its probably normal to, at some point or other, question your introduction on this planet. Why are you here? Whats so special about you? In my case, I took a long vexed look at myself, and found noth ing. Nada. asshole shit. I could find no substantive reason for me to be on this earth. And to be completely honest, this didnt surprise me. I had endlessly been decidedly average. My only sense of endeavor was decision the truth about my father, moreover to do that I needed money, and to get money I needed to work. Unfortunately, as Ive already stated, my job was like a nine to five lecture on the art of watching paint dry.What I needed was a miracle.What I got was a blessing in disguise.Sir, you bathroomt stay here, its human beings endangerment. I cant say I ever heard these words, my drunken demeanour, as well the cacophony of the halted cars horns, prevented them from reaching my ears as I wandered down the middle of a road. I tripped over my own feet, and landed tail first. Back owf I warned, Im armsed. I swung my whisky bottle wildly, until it flung saturnine and hit the floor. make up I murmured onward passing out. twain hours later, conscious and sober, when I wa s informed of the events, I cant say I was surprised. My excuse? I was bored. However, when I told this to the police, they were less than impressed. I was expecting them to frustrate me into one of their first class, luxurious cells for the night, and by chance, if Im luck, get the better of to a pulp for saying I supported the wrong football team. that if Ive learnt anything, its that lifes a bitch, and you never get what you want. exclusively a clip round one ear and a Dont do that over again in the other. Jesus, my mother gave me better presentment off than that when I was seven just about disheartened at the state of the juridical and law enforcement services, I made my expression towards the door, and the unbearable natural light of the afternoon. As I did this, I glanced over at the desk. She was there. The woman who arrested me last night, when I decided to take a walk on the wrong side of the roadfiguratively and literally. Suddenly, I felt something I hadnt expect ed. I felt a twinge of guilt. It was a feeling I hadnt felt in a long time, not since before I started destroying my mind with drink. I felt guilty for what I had done, I felt like I needed to apologise. I crept over to the desk, unsure of what to say, but sure of what to do.Excuse me miss. ErI just..er valued to say thaterIm sorry about last night.Normally Im a superficial more articulate than that, but the effect of last nights binge hadnt quite worn-out off.Thats ok. She said, as her face broke into a grimace. It was at this point I observe something that had escaped me last night, (possibly because my eyesight was in a less than perfect state). This woman, grinning at me from behind the desk, was beautiful, not in a catwalk super model broad-of-way, which had never appealed to me, but in a regular, either day kind of way. Her smile was kind and gentle, and her deep brown eyes sparkled in the hazy mid-day sun. She was stunning in a subtle way. I was falling for her, and I could feel it. Her smile broke as she spoke again, Normally, I get a nasty sneer off people, and thats off the nice ones. But I could describe you were different, even when I first aphorism you. Her face broke into a smile again, and I just hoped I wasnt staring at her. I dont knowI just knew you where different. I returned the smile, the first existing smile I had had in months. convey you. Hopefully, Ill see you around.She smiled at me, Hopefully not under the same circumstances, but we can live in hopes otherwise. As I walked out of the door, the painful brightness of the midday sun couldnt dampen my mood.I was no closer to finding my father, but maybe a step closer to finding myself.