You know, it may be a tall tale to all of you, but one night, a night that could have been any other night, my dad called me from a bar to pick him up. I always went and got him when he was too drunk to drive. But now he was in a bar I used to go to; I knew all the bartenders, many of the patrons.
I called a friend to help me get him. We went and before we went in, we prayed because BOTH of us used to go there and we were the fun girls, the girls who danced and flirted (that's it, really), but we knew we'd know alot of ppl. I told Cindy that when Dad asked us to dance we had to say no.
We went in, in our jeans and sweat shirts and as we walked the crowd parted, it WAS weird. Then Dad asked Cindy to dance, asked if we wanted drinks. I made sure the bartender had been tipped and we walked out.
I will NEVER forget that as we were walking Dad to the car, Dad asked why we had to bring "them" along, as he said this he looked over both of our shoulders. Cindy and I were shocked and not --- all at the same time. It truly seemed we had brother angels helping us get my dad out and get him to the car and not get into a bar fight or some other hassle with him.
