Warren

THE MAN

When I got out of the car at the Rotary Barbecue, I could smell the mix of the propane gas and barbecue sauce. The tables on the left were covered with cloths, and on the right were the different stands of competing rib places. I sat with my family at a table. Everyone was there including two uncles’ families and my grandmother. The day was sunny and nice, and it was warm like the perfect spring day. The first thing I got to eat was french fries and a lemonade. The french fries weren’t just any fried potatoes; they were big, golden brown and crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, steak fries. The lemonade was great because they grabbed a whole lemon and put it into the machine and juiced it out. The only bad thing was when you sucked up one of those big lemon seeds into your mouth, it was gross. My brother and I always looked forward to this because we got to have the lemonade. The different stands had a bunch of different foods to choose from. You could have baby back ribs, country ribs, pulled pork, corn, you name it, they had it. I ate everything and felt full and satisfied. As the day went on, it cooled down a little, so we decided to leave just before it got dark. My mom, brother, and I were clearing out, and my dad said he wanted to stay and help clean up.

                  At home I went to bed. The phone rang around 12:30 and my mom answered it. I woke up when the phone rang and looked at my red digital clock that let me know it was late. My mom came into the room and told me that she was going to pick up my father. I told her I wanted to go with her. My brother kept sleeping. I really wasn’t sure why we were picking up my father until I got to the site of the Barbecue. There were about four other guys with him. I wasn’t really paying attention to what their faces looked like, I was focusing on my dad. He didn’t want to leave when my mom went up to him to tell him to come. After a few minutes of strong negotiations on my mother’s part, he got into the car. I noticed he was asking weird questions and figured he was just joking around.

                  When we got back to the house, I thought he was still joking when he was walking up the driveway because he was wobbling around and saying weird things I had never heard him say before. We got him upstairs, and it was then I realized he wasn’t joking when he laid on his bed and went right to sleep. I still didn’t know what was wrong. It wasn’t till a few years later that I thought back on that incident and realized that he was drunk. I lost some respect for my dad, and I thought that there was nothing good about alcohol if that could happen to my dad who had always been “The Man.”