The Big Rock

I have made comment about a certain lack of judgement on my part. It's true, I try to do better, but sometimes I get distracted, and forget to think about what the heck I am about to screw up. Sometimes I trust the wrong people, like family, like my sister. Especially my sister. I think I may have mentioned that she stopped some of my cousins from hanging me with the plow lines, so she could enjoy the job her self. ( I was small and unarmed at the time.)

I don't visit anymore because I have learned that my immediate family expects me to be incredibly gullible. I am expected to believe the most barefaced lie, even when I was there when the lie was concocted. It's just waaaay too much trouble and too stressful.

A long time ago, before I came to my senses, and disappeared, I went to visit my sister. I know she was never very fond of me. The fact that she wouldn't let anyone kill me, was colored by little acts like gouging me in the eye with a finger when no one was looking. She had a small lapse in judgement her ownself, she allowed me to get bigger than her, and faster. She has never whipped me in the first quarter mile.

I used to go to redneck country fairly often. I always carry a weapon, now, when I go to those places. I forgot once, no more.

Most people think they know what a red neck is, they don't. If they ever find themselves face to face with a true, mountain born, inbred, ignorant, trouble making, person of the redneck variety, and survive, their laundry person will likely be very miffed. My sister is a card carrying, charter member of that society.

My sister lived in one of those places where there are shoes available, but only for Sunday Prayer Meeting. Most of her neighbors were too far away to give you a clue as to the local environment. There are some state institutions around there, prisons and such. There are also one or two private businesses. One of those was The Big Rock.

The Big Rock was a "club" where locals would gather to play pool, listen to a little music, and perhaps have an adult beverage. Unfortunately, they had no licence, for anything, particularly the liquor in those Mason jars. The pool table (1) had one light bulb, maybe 40watt, and the building had no windows. I mean really there's nothing to see here, so why would you need windows. The field, I mean parking lot, was most always full. The Big Rock that gave the club it's name was right in front of the door, in the perfect place to keep a car from getting too close to the patrons. It also would give good cover if the party inside spilled over to the road.

My sibling was a regular to the place and for some reason wanted to introduce me to the owner of this little cabaret. As I mentioned earlier, I most always carry a handgun when in that area and I'm not terrible about leaving it lay about. I would wear a bomber jacket with a slit pocket on the inside, and put a revolver in there. Except this time, I left it in the glove box. We wheeled up to the club, hopped out and strolled in.

Oh! Damn!

There had to be fifty or sixty people in there, and when we broke the plane of the door, it was like everyone was frozen in their tracks. Don't run they can smell your fear! About that time if anyone had flinched you could have smelled me all the way to the county line. Keep moving and try to make believe the whites of your eyes always look like search lights. I told me "fool, fool, fool, you have left your gun at home"! What, exactly, I would have done with a revolver, at that point I have NO idea. Try to put out the lights and then hide? Dive under the pool table and use it like a hammer to smack toes? Shoot myself to save them the trouble? I saw people that I worked with every day, and they wouldn't meet my eyes or speak. The only thing I could remember was the news article about the prison guard who caught his wife's boyfriend there, held him against the wall with a shotgun, and then had someone else cut him up with a straight razor. Fun loving lot there!

While all the bad things are going through my head, I am following my sister to the back, to be introduced to the owner. He turned out to be a very nice man, who offered me his hand, I was more than glad to shake it. When I did, the party started back up.

Sis, on the other hand, was totally oblivious to everything. I should have remembered, she would never let anything bad happen to me, she wants to do the job herself.

It's positively amazing how much stuff can whirl between your ears when you think it's about to drop into the pot.