1 long night

The bar served Miller High Life and the wench even put the long-neck in a foam coozy after turning on the dart machine. Our games became some of the longest the crusty board ever saw as a few attempted bullseyes glanced across the floor and under a patron's stool.

The beertender passed cold ones across the bar and talk got looser. Times since our last meeting were covered as we moved into a little reminiscing about old days and eventually merging into future plans. Tonight evolved into a shot glass for each of us - one vodka; one tequila.

Moments fleeted from our lives like grandmother's cheap perfume. Time to go home was hours before and I never expected to be dropped off by Louisiana's finest. As blue light bathed us in reality, "Oh shit," is all we could say or do. He saw us leave the bar and only waited until the car left the lot before they lit us up. "Where you coming from?"

"The bar," said the driver. We knew he knew.

"Step out of the car."

I could see my driveway from where we were stopped. The bar we decided to go was only a block away from it. Twenty-five cent pool and location is what invited us through the hole in the wall. The entrapment cost a few hours at the hoosegow, one of us behind bars, the other asking to post the bail. A twenty dollar bar tab and eight quarters for darts shouldn't put you walking the yellow line on a frontage road. But the shots came late in the night and all my driver knew right then was not to blow.

At 3 a.m. it's recommended that I hitch a ride with a trooper headed where I should have been hours ago. We approach the cruiser in silence and I head to the side not directly behind the statie.

"THIS SIDE!" he barked.

I don't recall giving him a reason to be angry other than being a passenger in this fiasco. Another shot of tequila and I'm sure I might have even gotten my own cell, but I knew I had to get used to playing bitch, for I had a fiance at home who hadn't heard from me in six hours.