Playground
April 14, 2008 •
We were kids
Once a week he showed up
Driving his blue Chevy pick-up truck
His breath smelling of beer
We got in and waved good bye to our mom
Where we were going was never a surprise
When we got to the tavern
Always first, he ordered himself a beer
The bartenders said hi to my sister and I by name
They knew us well
He asked for some quarters and two kiddy cocktails
He gave them to us and waved us toward the back of the tavern
"Stay outta trouble" He'd tell us
He turned on his barstool and never looked back
We'd play pinball and pool until the quarters ran out
Then we'd just sit in the back part of the tavern
Being quiet and staying out of the way
The consequences of doing anything else
Was to be hit
We would wait until he was done drinking
Usually we were there for hours
Sometimes all day
Those were the worst ones
They seemed to last forever
Finally, he'd teeter back towards us and say "Lets go"
You got back in the truck
We were always very quiet
So he could focus on the road
As he weaved down the streets
To take us back home
