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Free Speech


by Tom Parrish


Underwhelmed by underage drinking

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grasping. For every move I make she counters with one as strong and as meaningful. A little while later Bill pulls me aside for a “chat.” Guy jacks me up against the wall and wants to know “What’s up”? I’m on cloud nine, and don’t understand why he’s upset. “She’s only 16!” Bill says. “She’s Julie’s cousin.” I’m flustered, embarrassed and apologetic. I weakly say my goodbyes, get Jimmy, slink out the door and head home. It’s upon arrival at the house that I really start to get pissed about the whole affair. What the @#$%^ was she doing there on a Saturday night? Everybody in the joint was lit, including myself. She was drinking too -- and if she was 16, I guarantee you could not tell her from 19, sober or drunk. When I was coming up, the general attitude was to protect the girls and let the guys run wild. A sexist statement I know, but it wasn’t thought of that way at the time. Fellows, do you really want your underage daughters, sisters, and nieces, patronizing establishments where alcohol is being consumed? I know I’m preaching to the choir, but I’m here to remind you that the words “drunk” and “horny” are synonymous for a male at that age. Nothing positive can result from this practice of exposing kids to adults in this sort of environment. Along with a much older and mature crowd who has legally lost all sense of age limitations via alcohol, you are also willfully exposing them to the recreational drugs that are out there today. Frankly, if you refuse to accept this premise, you are hopelessly either naïve, drunk or stoned yourself. ◗

Connect Savannah

I’M DEAD SET against allowing underage people into bars. Don’t know how or why this got started in Savannah -- but what were we thinking? Years ago, I used to hang out at a little bar on the Southside, a blue-collar dive with a bunch of pool tables. A shotsand-beer kind of place, if you know what I mean. It was also a place where a majority of the patrons were involved in the drugs of the day. Back then, it was mainly pot, but often served up with a side order of Quaaludes. Nowadays, along with the mandatory presence of alcohol, these same type establishments have graduated to highgrade hydroponically grown marijuana, crack cocaine and Ecstasy. Anyway, back to my joint on the Southside and the evening of my conversion to my “no kids in the bar policy”: I’m out with my buddy Jimmy on a Saturday night. We’ve got a buzz going before we even enter the place. We throw our quarters down on the pool table and order up a couple of longnecks. Jimmy’s brother Bill and his wife Julie score a table with some little cutie. She’s a black-haired beauty with eyes as dark as her hair and as big as saucers that seem to be staring bullets straight at me. I was mesmerized, and as usual when I am introduced to a beautiful woman, I trip all over my tongue and make a fool of myself. More than a little embarrassed and six sheets to the wind, I set my sails for the poolroom. I go to hit my break, and BOOM she’s in my line of sight. I scratch. This goes on for about an hour, with me constantly looking over my shoulder to make sure she is in fact staring at me and not someone else. She finally motions for me to sit down and get comfortable. A few beers later I know the gold ring is there for my

Profile for Connect Savannah

Connect Savannah February 22, 2006  

Connect Savannah February 22, 2006