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Uncle Frankie
by David Stillwagon

We had just beaten His Holiness Church in the YMCA junior high church basketball league. I was ready to catch the bus back home when my buddy Brian sees me leaving the Y. He runs up and says, “Oh my God. I just saw two guys dressed up like girls walking out of the Purple Owl Tavern!”

“Huh, what do you mean?”

“You know they were wearing dresses and stuff like that.”

“You sure they were guys.”

“Yeah, they looked like guys in the face, and one of them was your uncle Frankie.”

No, this couldn’t be. Uncle Frankie was a great guy and besides he’s a lifetime catholic and married for Christ’s sake. “You‘re full of shit.”

“I know what I saw. Go ask your dad.”

“I’ll do just that.”

That Brian was full of shit, that’s for sure. Dad will get a big hoot out of this when I tell him.


“Son, sit down on the couch.”

I hope nothing was wrong. Dad looked awfully serious. I hope he didn’t lose his job.

“You know that Frankie is my only brother and I love him. But he’s does things like this. I don’t know why but he does. I don’t want to say anymore. Okay?”

“Does anybody else know about it?”

“Everybody but you.”

“Geez, is it a mental thing? You think it runs in the family?”

“Hell no! It’s just him.”