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It was a perfectly ordinary night. I?d finished work and fought the rush-hour traffic home. I slipped out of my shoes, poured a glass of wine and was settling into the evening news when the phone rang. Sally, my daughter was on the other end. ?Hey Dad, what are you up to?? she asked. I relayed my plans to cook up a big steak dinner and open a nice red. ?Cool! Can I come round?? she asked enthusiastically. ?I have plenty to share,? I said looking forward to some company. Sally was 25 and going places. She had a career in the travel industry and spent almost half the year in some other part of the world ? perks of the job, I guess. So I was surprised to hear she was in town. Sally arrived about a half hour later. I hadn?t even started dinner. I had only just got out of the shower when the doorbell rang. I quickly threw on a t-shirt and jeans and answered the door. ?Did I come too early?? she asked looking at my wet hair. ?Oh no ? not at all?. You know that a good steak has to be cooked right before eating. Why don?t you prepare a salad while I finish getting dressed?? I sprung upstairs to dress appropriately. I ventured downstairs. Sally was preparing a salad and had put on some music. I was surprised at her choice ? not the sort of stuff I imagined she would listen to but it was pleasant. I stood at the doorway to the kitchen for a moment admiring my daughter. I was proud. She was beautiful, no doubt, 5?5?, tanned istanbul travesti and perfectly proportioned. Any man would be proud to have her on his arm. And yet I had comforted her through numerous failed relationships ? indeed I had smacked a few of the losers myself. But that was the past. Sally was bright, cheerful and enthusiastic. The world was her oyster! ?OK,? I said, ?Let?s get this steak happening!? Sally jumped, startled at my outburst. ?SHIT! You scared the hell out of me!? she shouted. ?Sorry hunnie ? I just thought we?d better get started. Wine?? ?Hmmm yes indeed.? ?So where is Patrick tonight?? I asked. ?Who cares? Patrick is an ass!? ?Oh ? problems?? I ventured. ?Daddy you always taught me to stand up for myself ? so I did.? ?Oh? What happened?? ?We had words, Daddy ? nothing more. Honestly there is nothing for you sort out.? ?What sort of words?? ?Never mind. Where is that wine?? I was concerned. Sally was clearly not pleased. I decided not to press the matter and poured us both a glass of wine. Sally took her glass with a smile, placed the salad in the fridge and gave me a peck on the cheek. ?Come and sit down, Dad. Let?s have dinner wait a little while.? We sat and chatted about Sally?s latest business trip. New York was the place to be, apparently. I just simply enjoyed her smiles paying little attention to the detail of her conversation. An hour later we istanbul travestileri ate having finished a bottle of wine. The meal was superb! We adjourned to the lounge room and fired up the stereo. Grateful for the company I opened another bottle and we chatted casually about all the crazy shit that happens in life. We reminisced about Jane, her mother ? some good, some not so. I pressed the point about Patrick. ?He?s no good, Dad,? I was told. ?How so?? ?Apart from being a demanding ass and no good in bed, he cannot accept me the way I am, cannot accept my career, doesn?t respect me?.? she trailed off. ?Ah,? I said. Sally could be difficult to live with. Heaven knows I had first-hand experience of it! But as a teenager, she was no worse than any other. She was driven and focused on whatever it was she was into at the time. ?Perhaps?? ?The only way he can make me scream, Dad, is to annoy the crap out of me!? she interrupted. ?Do I really need to know this?? I asked. ?Yes Dad you do! It will provide insight.? ?Sweetheart, I know you can be demanding yourself. Perhaps there is too much of your mother in you.? ?You shit!? she objected and slapped my shoulder. ?By the way, mum sends love.? ?Oh? You have seen her recently?? ?I saw her last month. She?s in Kenya. We were on safari together. She?s doing something charitable in some remote village.? Sally?s mum and I shared no animosity. travesti istanbul We had grown apart and her interests were so diverse from mine that we had agreed to part company to avoid any bad feelings and maintain a supportive environment for Sally?s sake. Sally was eleven at the time and we agreed that we would never do anything to harm her. Three years ago she announced her plans to re-locate. ?Anyway, mum said to say hello next time I saw you.? ?OK well if you happen by that way anytime soon be sure to return my sentiments,? I added. Sally assumed a look a look of deep thought. Eventually she asked, ?Dad would you say I?m difficult?? ?Oh, I would say you you?ve had your moments but I really do enjoy your company, sweetheart,? I added. ?I?m sorry, Dad. I know there was a time in my late teens when we didn?t see eye to eye but I was testing my wings. But you taught me not to compromise on anything I believed in,? she added, shuffling closer on the couch. She buried her head in my shoulder and I gave her a cuddle. ?I?d say, then, that the job was well done!? I pronounced and kissed on the forehead. ?I need to visit the bathroom,? she announced and promptly left the room. Thinking nothing more of it I opened our third bottle of wine, poured two glasses and sat back, now totally relaxed. Sally walked in a few minutes later wearing my bathrobe. ?I hope you don?t mind, Daddy, but I think I?ll stay here tonight. I have had too much to drink to drive safely.? ?Sure sweetheart, the spare room is always made up,? I agreed. She sat next to me again, drew her knees up and asked, ?So I?m not a difficult person???Of course not darling! Why would you think so?? ?Oh I don?t, it?s just something Patrick said.