Pop at the dive bar

     Maybe I was going about it all wrong by trying to impress him with the fancy.  To continue the streak of an unpoopy poppy I took my Dad to a little local dive we call the Roadhouse (the Minisink is its proper name).   From the moment I heard crunchy, dry lemon pepper wings early this morning they were calling my name.  My Dad doesn't mind a wing here and there so we threw him the car and went.
     Now back in the day my curly haired padre taught me the basics of a little game called pool.  I don't think we've been in the same room with a pool table in nearly two decades.  It felt like just yesterday.   It took only a few seconds and a second request before we were digging for quarters to play.  Some of the things we do perplex my Dad because he simply has forgotten about them.  I continually have to remind him that he does indeed like a certain food or yes he DOES REALLY know the person that said hello to him earlier.  It can be scary but I try to throw a joke in there if only to make myself giggle instead of cry.  The first few strokes of the mighty cue stick caused concern.  See my Dad is a bit of a hustler when it comes to billiards.  He was no professional back in the day but he would raise a few eyebrows as the younger folk tried to see what the old man had in him.  I was rusty myself as well.  A few hits in and we were the two curly haired goofballs at the table.  Maybe I had to remind him that he was solids and I was stripes  a few times but he did darn well for himself.  His massive hands still got it!
     Some sure and steady things did indeed happen: he coughed like mad over the vinegar from the wing sauce, he complained about how loud it was and he reminded me that beer was only ten cents a glass back in his day.  He had the extra adventure of a waitress dropping a plate that shattered at his feet and caused quite a jump as well.   But as we shared onion rings and sweet potato tots he seemed ok.  I know he missed my Mom ordering a pitcher of some light crappy beer because this was just the type of place we would've loved together.  Though our table had a vacant chair holding her place I think once again I left him with an evening that felt a little less empty.