My aunt was managing a sidewalk sale and asked if I would go pick up some food for a few of my family members. They ordered some burgers from the local bar uptown.
My little cousin had spent most of the morning tagging along since she wanted to meet the new kitty, so after I put her to work helping me vacuum at the carwash, we headed uptown to pick up the order.
Minus a few people eating lunch and playing pool, the place was pretty empty. We sat on the stools and waited for our order to finish. I made conversation about the weather and the Cooking Channel with the bartender as the burgers sizzled on the grill in the background.
As I looked around at the empty bar, I couldn’t help but think about all that had happened the night before. Just hours earlier, the place was packed. Music blared in the background. Smoke filled the air. Pool cues were chalked up. Every bar stool and table was full.
I thought about my friend who walked away from Jesus a couple months ago and now spends much of her time drinking away her problems in that very place. My stomach ached as the cook pulled the fries out to drain.
I thought about all the times I fell asleep on the pool table as a little girl because my dad and step-mom chose the life of addiction over and over again.
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