Take A Pottery Class In The Hopes That Your Real Father Will Be The Instructor Day!
You'll be his star pupil. He'll find in your ashtrays and car key-chain caddies the seeds of a master pottery...whatever (potter?). He'll devote more attention to you than to the rest of the class, largely because he thinks your pot making is awesome, but something in his bones will tell him there's more to it than that. He'll need to be near you and if you're of the gender he likes to fist, he might mistake the need for a sexual one. You'll run crying from the classroom when he makes a move but you'll leave behind a clue to the fact that he's your real dad, like a surveillance photo of him dropping you off at an orphanage or DNA test results you obtained by slicing off a piece of his elbow when he showed up to class wasted and passed out on his desk (have you ever been to the Learning Annex?). After you skip your next class he'll probably show up at your job (you either wait tables at a diner or are a senator) and he'll say "I could tell by the way you pottered that you have the blood of a potteryer flowing through your veins. I just never imagined it was mine." Then he'll give you his sob story about being too young to raise a kid blah blah. Don't cut him any slack. Tell him you have customers to take dinner orders from or bills to vote on and that he can wait for you to make time for him.
He will. He's your father.
If the guy teaching your pottery class isn't your real father or is a woman or if you already know who your real father is, pipe down.
Happy Take A Pottery Class In The Hopes That Your Real Father Will Be The Instructor Day!