It's about 2:45 to 3 in the morning. You've just gotten into a good sleep. You know the type of sleep. When it feels like you're melting into the pillow and the covers are embracing you? Well, as you get into that sleep, the phone rings jolting you from that comfort. You answer it a little miffed and the first thing you hear muffled in the background is Tanner's dumbass friend Caleb, "Tanner is so fukking boss! That was lit, bro!". You roll your eyes knowing this call is about something stupid. A more powerful authoritative voice tells Caleb to shut up. The voice then says to you,
"Sir, this is Carnival Cruises in regards to your son."
You groan. Your son is a dumbass. You've come to terms with that over the years. You don't know what caused it. Maybe it was that baseball that hit him in the head during little league when he was 8? That left quite the lump. Maybe it was that time he used the "no no" word with a black classmate when he was 11? That left almost as big a lump as the baseball! Maybe it was the time he thought he was a pro skater at 13 and jumped down a flight of stairs on his board. Hitting his head, breaking his left arm and ending up in the hospital for two weeks? Caleb was there too! Cheering him on when he woke up in the hospital. Tanner gave Caleb a smile and a thumbs up, missing 3 teeth from the incident. God, you hate Caleb. Maybe he was always a dumbass? Maybe he got it from his mom's side? You certainly didn't marry her for her brains!
"So what did he do? How much is bail?" You ask. You're already going through your nightstand for your checkbook.
"Sir, it's more serious than that."
You pause and listen intently.
"Late last night at around 11:45, he leapt from the side of the ship into the ocean. He wasn't pushed or drunk. He did it of his own accord," the man explains.
You feel your heart stop.
"T-Money is just gangster like that!" You hear Caleb yell and someone tells him to shut up again.
"W-well where is he?!" You ask a little more forcibly than you intended to. Your wife is starting to stir from her slumber so you step away from the bed.
"Sir, passengers threw him a life ring but he swam away from it. It was dark and we couldn't stop the ship in time to send out rescue rafts."
"fukk he need a life ring for?! The ocean can't stop T-Money!" Caleb screams.
"What the hell did he do that for?!" You ask.
"Apparently, because someone told him he wouldn't do it," the man says.
"T-Money's not a bytch!" Caleb screams.
"...Because someone said he wouldn't do it...?" You repeat.
18 years. You raised your son for 18 years. You put him through school. Bought him everything he ever wanted for every fad he ever got pulled into. Bailed him out of jail numerous times. Boys will be boys after all. Sent him on this cruise for the summer to keep him out of trouble hoping he didn't knock up some island girl from one of the stops. Praying that seeing the world would change him.
"Sir, are you there?" The employee asks.
"Why didn't you call the coast guard?!" You yell. Rage was filling your body.
"Sir, we're several hundred miles off shore. Even if we called the coast guard there would be little chance that by the time they got here that they'd find your son."
"RIP my dawg T-Money! He was a real one!" Caleb says. Not a hint of sadness in his voice.
You are in a rage. Whose fault is this?! Certainly not your Tanny wanny!
"What kind of cruise are you running?! How dare you lose my son! You'll be hearing from my lawyers!" You scream before shutting off the phone.
18 years. 18 fukking years.
mightve been me. Not like I knew about this ship/rudder momentum shyt people are talking about ITT.
Actual facts
