As if it weren't enough--as mon ami and I were sitting there at a Wisconsin dive bar eating individually ketchupped french fries (well, me anyway)--to find a nice blonde girl who was so heartbroken over the Favre thing that she went into histrionics every time she saw "4" on the TV (no Olympics for the Wisconsinites, the horror), we also had the rare oppprtunity to see a young Wisconsinite in his new and tender first years. Doesn't every watering hole in Wisconsin have a 4 or 5 year old child at a bar at 9 o'clock in the evening?
No--mom wasn't picking up food, or bringing the kid over to visit dad at his second job, no. She was playing pool. In her defense, she did get the kid a chair and something to drink (think they stiffed him on the liquor--looked like well to me), while she picked out his new daddy--and there were some fine specimens to choose from too, but still. Even in Wisconsin?
And then, on our way out, we saw him perched on another bar stool in front of the poker machine pushing buttons. While mom cruised the merchandise. Course, really, once you've taught your kid about pool and Schlitz, what's a little video poker, huh?
Did I mention the 6 months pregnant bartender with the pack-a-day habit?
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