No Liquor, But Would You Like A Handgun?

It’s been a rough week; I’ve been working all weekend on things that were neglected while I was gone for ten-days. I’m not tired, but I’m stiff and stressed out, I need a damned drink. Not wine, that makes me sleepy. I crack open the wine fridge to see what else we have.

There’s two shelves of soda – soda? Why do we have that, neither of us drinks soda. Hrm…there’s a mystery bottle of wine I found two days ago, I’m still not sure where that came from or who’s it is, ok next. Blech, cheap cooking wine. Cheap brandy and some rum. Oy. We need vodka; I need vodka, time to go to the store.

Down here you don’t find the typical liquor store. Oh sure, we have them, but our supermarkets and big stores like Target also carry wine and beer. I make my way through our half revitalized, half decrepit Downtown to a local large chain whose tag line is “If you can’t find it here, it doesn’t exist.”


I’ve pretty much found that to be true.


I pull in, the parking lot is oddly lacking many cars, and usually this place is a madhouse. Whatever, I find easy parking. I walk inside, past the massive neon rabbit sign – yes a giant neon rabbit.

I make my way through the isles – “Bourbon Street,” “Whiskey Way,” “Rum Road…” yes I know it’s corny, but hey, it seriously helps you find exactly what you’re looking for. Ah HA! Vodka! Sweet, sweet Russian candy.

I grab some weird Irish vodka that Julius always buys, and I happen to enjoy and begin to make my way towards the front of the store, not noticing that half the lights in the store are out and there’s only one register open.

I make my way to register 9, manned by a rather rotund, pale, blond woman with the rattiest hair I’ve ever seen. I smile at her and hand her the bottle.

“No liquor.” She says with a heavy southern accent.

“Huh?” I ask, not sure what she means.

“Can’t buy hard liquor on Sundays, darling, only wine or beer.”

“But you’re a liquor store.”

“Cain’t do it.”

“But why?”

“Do you think the Good Lord Jesus, on the 7th day, when he was restin’, went and had hisself a drink? No sir! No liquor on Sundays.”

I look to my left and see a box with tins of mints in them, they’re called TestaMints, they have scripture on every mint. I look around, half expecting to see a large black woman burst out into “Listen To The Rain,” as I get a scripture lesson.

I notice a TV on over the back of the check-out counter.

 

“Today on Houston’s death row, an inmate pulled out his own eye, and then proceeded to eat it, more on that when we come back.”

 

Did I just enter some kinda crazy-town?

 

I’m half distracted, hand the bottle of vodka to the sacker and walk out.

There’s some flashing lights for a store across the street.  “HANDGUNS!  QUICK APPROVAL!  OPEN! OPEN! OPEN!” it flashes.  Huh….so I can’t get some vodka, some guy eats his own eye, but I can get a handgun…welcome to Texas.

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9 Comments

  1. Irish Vodka…interesting

  2. I know! A lot of our friends only drink Belvedere or Chopin vodka….they’re French, and I’m sorry, but what the heck do the French know about vodka, at least the Irish know potatoes!

  3. Never heard of Chopin….Belvidere is Polish…Grey Goose is from France and that is very good

    • Ah, didn’t know that Belvidere was Polish..that’s acceptible then!

  4. Wow and I thought PA’s liquor laws were ridiculous! Sounds like you learned another one of life’s very important lessons….always keep the bar fully stocked!!!

  5. Michigan was like that too. You could not buy Liquer on Sundays…but you could buy wine and beer

  6. Drinking impairs the senses…….apple juice will keep you regular……

  7. ew, gross

  8. Maybe gross but my two chillen’s loved it!!!!
    Drink up shriner!!!!


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