Roman Riess

Roman Riess

Roman Riess Sr. was not the man that he once knew. Seated inside of this of overly price eatery that thought ran through his mind like a track-star running laps around a track. The years that past were in the double digits, it has been that long since he last saw the man that he once called daddy. Roman Riess Sr. was smaller than he remembered, older too. When he was younger his father seemed bigger, larger than life, his very own superhero. But now he was only an aging man. The years had been good to him, Roman Sr. looked good for a man his age. Roman Riess Sr. Stood around six-foot-two and maybe weighed 230 or 240. Roman Sr. was grey-haired and balding on top. His hue, that chocolate brown that most women have grown to adore. His build mirrored that of a heavyweight boxer's, rightfully so because that was once his profession. Roman Riess Jr. was the spitting image of the man he despised. The only difference was in their heights. His father smiled broadly, damn near shown every tooth in his head when spotted Junior sitting in the back of the restaurant at a table that he could see everything that was going on around him. He held up his right hand at him and ordered his feet to move in Roman's direction.

Reaching his son Roman Sr. chimed.

"Don't get up on my behalf, son."

"I hadn't planned on it, Roman." Was a son's retort to a disliked father.

"I'm still your father, son." He said, "Showing me a little respect would be the best thing to do in a situation like this, don't you think?."

"Having a real father in my life would've been nice to, but hey, you can't always get everything you want, at least not in this world."

Roman Riess Sr. was visibly agitated with his seed. His good mood had transformed into something else. Roman Sr. knew that this encounter with his only son wouldn't be all hugs and kisses, he knew that this would be different, told himself when he woke up this morning that he and his angry child may even come to blows today. If things did manage to go that far left, which he prayed it didn't, but if it did he wouldn't hesitate to put junior on his black ass.

"Are you gonna offer your dear old daddy a seat? I'm... not as young as I once was, these old knees of mine can't hold up all this weight like they used to."

"Last time I checked, Roman this was a free country, you have the to sit wherever you want."

Roman Sr. smirked, slightly nodded his head and lowered his frame down into the seat across from his doppelganger. Roman junior eyed his father intently, his gaze sweeping over the man responsible for the way he looked. Roman junior drunk in the way that time would alter his appearance. Roman junior sipped the liquor that he was nursing while he waited for his daddy to show up.

Roman junior asked, "Why did you ask me to come here?"

"Well damn, how the hell are you, son?"

"I've been in better company." He said, "Now, answer my question, old man."

"Okay, son." Roman Sr. uttered. "I guess the proper introductions are out of the window. All business I see, I can respect that. It reminds me of... me when I was your age."

Roman junior sipped some more of his amber-colored liquid and grimaced.

Roman Sr. said, "I haven't seen my son in over twenty years. I don't think that I really need a reason to request to see my own flesh and blood."

"And that's all we are, Roman. Not since the day, you put me out of your house, gave me a funky-ass eighty-two dollars and told me to get it how I live."

Roman Riess Sr. cringed a little bit and leaned back against the cushioned padded back-rest.

Roman Junior continued. He said, "My mama had just died, I didn't even have time to grieve, Roman before you had my damn bags packed and your foot against my ass booting me out of the front door."

"I'm... sorry, son."

"You damn right." Snapped the Riess seed. He said, "You're sorry, a sorry ass excuse for a man, a father. Fuck you, old man, fuck you."

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