Goodbye, Friendly Liquor Store.

Although I voted in favor of allowing the sale of alcohol on Sunday in the recent election, I didn't feel all that great about it. I voted in favor because the law prohibiting it was discriminatory. Even down heah in the Bible Belt, not everyone has accepted Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. Can you believe it?*

I was tempted to vote "no" for purely selfish financial reasons, which would have been un-Christian of me. As a devout Christian, I had to vote, "Heck yes, we should be allowed to buy beer on the Lord's day!" I've always enjoyed the Friendly Liquor Store, even though it was only open one day a week.

"Dad, it's me. Do y'all have any red wine?"

"Sorry, can't help you."

"No biggie. Thanks."

My husband was aghast. He wasn't used to my family's brevity on the phone in times of dire need. But we didn't need words to communicate. Dad knew we were having people over and we'd forgotten they were red wine drinkers. He knew I wasn't trying to score free wine just to save money. He knew we had already bought white wine and beer. My one question told him everything he needed to know. Because it was Sunday. And I knew he wanted me to quit tying up his phone, because he's a realtor and they get a lot of calls the day the big real estate section is in the paper. On Sunday. It was the only day of the week I could shamelessly call my parents and beg for free alcohol without explaining myself.

I remember another phone call (Forgive me. I need to reminisce since these calls are a thing of the past.)

"Dad, it's me. Do y'all have any Scotch?"

"Hold on."

Much clinking ensued. A list of all sorts of Scotch-y sounding things** soon followed.

"What do y'all need it for?" He knows we're not Scotch drinkers.

"The babysitter."

"Um...what kind of babysitter is that?" He doesn't normally like to question our parenting, but there's a time and a place.

"My mother-in-law."

"Sounds good. Do you want me to bring it or are you picking it up?"

A. and I are firm believers in providing free babysitters with their cocktail of choice. My Dad understood that, because he's enjoyed more than one Coors or Amstel Light while looking after our little darlings. My mother-in-law, like many French women, only drinks red wine, Scotch and coffee. That is why they don't get fat. We had coffee and red wine.

I really don't have any need to buy alcohol on Sunday. I've never had an alcohol emergency that couldn't be resolved by a short trip to Mom and Dad's Sunday Liquor Emporium. According to this story, there are a lot of people in town who haven't figured out they should just call my parents. I particularly like the guy who claims he likes "the continuity of going to the store Sunday and getting my beer." Which would indicate that he buys beer every single day. And I thought I was bad. It should be noted that he was interviewed on Saturday, buying a case of PBR and a 12 pack of Schlitz, which must be a two day supply for him, since he goes to the store six out of seven days in a week. His parents must be so proud. That article, by the way, is worth a look if you're concerned about your drinking habits. It'll make you feel better, because those people are in a whole 'nother drinking league. And if you relate to them, well...ahem...your parents must be so proud.

The victory is bittersweet for me. Thanks to the voters of this fair city (and it is fair, that alcohol should be available every day of the week, regardless of the religious views of a portion of the population), I'll be a few dollars poorer. A small price to pay for justice. I might buy beer tomorrow, just because I can, even though I don't even drink beer. I'll be headed to the store early though, to beat the church crowd, of course.

Namasté, y'all!

* And can you believe that a Sunday school teacher like me would be so sarcastic about the tiny Baby Jesus? I can't help it. Everything is funny to me. I love my kids and I make fun of them all the time, so why not the Baby Jesus?

** You know, my generation could really take a cue from our elders. Those people know how to stockpile liquor. Maybe because they remember Prohibition.