Wednesday, November 11, 2009

A little story about my grandmother and shuffleboard.

Growing up I spent a lot of time with my grandmother. I called her Granny. Her real name was Wanda. I'm not going to tell you that she was the typical grandmother. While she did spoil me and took very good care of me as every grandmother should, she also lived a different kind of life than most grandmothers. Until the day she died she was a bartender at the V.F.W. in Kermit, the same V.F.W. that I lived above most of my teenage years.

Now, the V.F.W. was not a loud hard partying bar. It was filled mostly with men who rolled in at 5 or so and drank until their wives called the bar and told them to get home. She was an amazing woman. She was also one of the toughest women I have ever known. As shown by this story that was relayed to me by her brother many years ago.

Many many years ago my grandmothers brother was in the Navy. He had been at sea for a while and decided to come visit my grandmother, Wanda, while on leave. She was pregnant at the time. Despite this he talked her into going to a bar with him. He wanted to drink some beer and play some shuffleboard. A classic American outing.

So things are going well. My granduncle is enjoying playing shuffleboard and having some beers. He is getting to spend some time with his sister and relax. All you could ask for on some leave from the Navy. But, like most good times had at a bar it was brought to a halt by some drunken idiot. While my grandmother was bent over lining up what was to be without a doubt an amazing shot (she was really good at shuffle board) a drunken buffoon walks by, pinches her butt, and proceeds to walk over to the booth him and his buddy are sitting at and laugh about what he just did. Poor judgment on his part. My granduncle saw what had happened while he was at the bar getting more beer. Intent on doing what any brother would do for his pregnant sister he started walking over to the booth to beat the hell out of the guy (that’s just how my family handles things sometimes). Walking, focusing on the man he was about to punch, he didn't even see the shuffleboard puck until it hit the guy square in the face. My granduncle turned to see where the puck had come from but he knew before he even turned his head. My grandmother, apparently quite the athlete in her day, was underhand fast pitching the shuffle board pucks at the two guys sitting in the booth. She hit the other guy in the chest and they both went crawling under the booth seeking shelter. She proceeded to unload every puck at the booth, 8 in all.

Those things are heavy and solid. I can only imagine that they would have been better off taking the beating from my granduncle. After she was done my granduncle turned to the bar, sure that the bar tender was calling the cops. He had disappeared. After a few seconds the bartenders head slowly came up from behind the bar and asked "Is she out of ammo?"

Good times. Unless you’re one of the guys in the booth of course.

Like most stories passed on to us by our elders this is one that you can learn from. I'm sure everyone will get something different from it.

What did I take from it?

You never offend a pregnant woman, and if you do. Pray that her brother gets to you before she does.

1 comment:

WolveRena said...

Wanda sounds amazing! I like her style.