I Drank Alcohol Before I Was 21
When I was 14, my step mom took my sisters out of state for a wedding, which left me home alone with my father. He did what any alcoholic father would do in that situation. He took me to a honky tonk bar called Shooters and somehow managed to get me into the place. It was a dimly lit dive with laminated tables and straight-back padded chairs with metal frames. The tables were almost as sticky as the floor. Everything in the place seemed to be some shade of brown, and it resembled The Boars Nest in the Dukes of Hazzard.
My father ordered pitcher after pitcher of beer as I got totally smashed in this smoke-filled bar listening to a local band covering the hits of Waylon Jennings and Alabama. At one point, I was so out of it that I rested my head on the table. My father quickly lifted my head up and told me that a bouncer would kick us out if I couldn't keep my head up, so I slowed down and drank a little slower. Meanwhile, he was making time with some woman named Dottie who had taken a seat at our table.
Finally, I couldn't take anymore, so I went out and slept in the truck in the parking lot while my father continued to party inside. When I woke up, we were driving down the road with Dottie, whom my father spent the rest of the night with in the bed he shared with my step mom.
I woke up the next morning as sick as a dog to the smell of Dottie cooking breakfast for us. She made biscuits and gravy, which were actually pretty good and helped immensely. So, I learned another valuable lesson, which was to sop up a night of drinking with heavy breakfast food.
After breakfast, we drove Dottie back to the bar, so she could get her car and leave. On the way home, my father tried to explain to me why he did what he did and that I could never say a word to my step mom or I would lose my sisters.
Thanks, dad.
My father ordered pitcher after pitcher of beer as I got totally smashed in this smoke-filled bar listening to a local band covering the hits of Waylon Jennings and Alabama. At one point, I was so out of it that I rested my head on the table. My father quickly lifted my head up and told me that a bouncer would kick us out if I couldn't keep my head up, so I slowed down and drank a little slower. Meanwhile, he was making time with some woman named Dottie who had taken a seat at our table.
Finally, I couldn't take anymore, so I went out and slept in the truck in the parking lot while my father continued to party inside. When I woke up, we were driving down the road with Dottie, whom my father spent the rest of the night with in the bed he shared with my step mom.
I woke up the next morning as sick as a dog to the smell of Dottie cooking breakfast for us. She made biscuits and gravy, which were actually pretty good and helped immensely. So, I learned another valuable lesson, which was to sop up a night of drinking with heavy breakfast food.
After breakfast, we drove Dottie back to the bar, so she could get her car and leave. On the way home, my father tried to explain to me why he did what he did and that I could never say a word to my step mom or I would lose my sisters.
Thanks, dad.
By:
BamPow
Age:
41-45
,
Male
10
responses
