I Growed Up In Bars

Scene 1: My family owns 50 acres of scrubby land, known as Hall Hill. When I was little more than a toddler, a bar called Spider's was nestled at the foot of the Hill. With most of my relatives in walking distance, Spider's did a brisk business. When Mama Hall, my grandma, got off work, she would take me to the bar. She played dominos and guzzled beer, & I would bum quarters from the elderly patrons so I could play "Celebrate" by Kool & The Gang.. I played the song over and over, writhing on the floor in my best impersonation of a Solid Gold dancer. This is my earliest memory.

Scene 2: When i was 13 years old (maybe 12), my mom decided that I had suffered sobriety long enough. To remedy the problem, she took me to the only bar in town, The One More. She recommended margaritas (cocktail of choice in Tejas!), and set about getting me hammered. I sat at the bar for hours, drinking and singing along with Lynyrd Skynyrd and George Strait, thoroughly enjoying myself. Eventually, mom got bored with me, and started flirting with a swarthy barfly. I ran out of margarita, and tried to get her attention. She ignored me. I decided the best way to get her attention was to throw ice cubes at her flapping mouth and chant "Bitch, I want a drink," over and over. This did not go well, so she took me home to sleep it off, and returned to The One More, alone.

Scene 3: By the time I was 14, I was at the bar every weekend. One night, I arrived to find my despised step-father, Pooger, with his tongue down a stranger's throat,and his hand up her shirt. Confident that I wouldn't have to live with him much longer, I strode up to him and announced,

"Oooh, motherfucker, you fucked up! I'm gonna tell my mama."

It was very satisfying to watch him go pale. When my mom got there, I ran up to tell her the news. She rushed to confront them.

While I was not rewarded with the divorce I longed for, I did get to see my mom beat a bar skank's ass.