“The man I shot was trying to kill my family,” I snarled.
“Whatever.”
I noticed she got quiet after that.
We drove without speaking for several minutes. Then she asked, “What do you watch, anyway?”
“I told you, I don’t have time to watch things on – on Netflix.”
I caught myself before I said ‘TV,’ since that would only get me another eye-roll – and every time she rolled her eyes, I wanted to strangle her.
“I bet you watch football,” she said scornfully.
She meant what Americans call soccer.
“Well, yeah – when Fiorentina or Juventus is playing,” I said, naming two of my favorite teams.
“So you DO have time to watch shit on television!”
“Only once in a while!” I snapped. “And I haven’t watched anything in six months.”
I didn’t mention that six months ago was when my father died, and my brothers and I had to take over the family business.
There hadn’t been time for anything other than that.
“What was the last thing you watched, then?” she challenged me. “And NOT football.”
I had to think about that one.
“I bet it was something about the mafia, wasn’t it,” she said with a knowing grin, like she had me all figured out.
“No – ”
“Okay, maybe not the Cosa Nostra, but some other gangsters, then. ‘Peaky Blinders’?”
“What?”
“Oh, yeah, you’re a grandpa – you don’t even know what Netflix is.”
“I know what Netflix i– ”
“The Godfather?”
“I haven’t seen The Godfather in years.”
“Scarface?”
“Pacino’s great in that,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, he was,” she agreed off-handedly, like she couldn’t argue. Then she snapped her fingers. “I know – ‘The Sopranos.’”
I didn’t answer, but my face must have given me away, because she laughed in delight.
“HA! It was ‘The Sopranos,’ wasn’t it?! That show is older than shit, dude. You really ARE a fuckin’ Boomer.”
I noticed, though, that the entire time she was mocking me…
She never changed the channel on the radio.