Chapter 1

It was a very cold night in November, and I had just turned twenty one that day. My mother, father and Ellen had decided to throw me a surprise birthday party at my dad's favorite watering hole, the El Bolero Tavern. It would be too harsh to say that the place was a dive. There was a full size shuffleboard game and a bowling machine, both used for gambling, a juke box for limited dancing, and, a TV set mounted up high where everyone gathered to watch the Friday night fights. It wasn't the decor or the cleanliness of the tavern that made people think it was a dive, it was the clientele and the barmaids that accomplished that. The owner had decided, years before, that he didn't want any regular girls working for him because they just caused him too much trouble. He used to pick the bar maids for the size of their boobs and for their absolute willingness to put up with the customer's antics and comments. There was a big bowl set up on the bar for people to put in tips for the bar maids, but nobody ever seemed to use it. These were working class men who frequented the El Bolero Tavern, sailors, construction worker, fishermen and some of the shift workers from out at Electric Boat. They all worked hard for their money, and they wouldn't give it away just to have someone bring them a pitcher of beer and a round of shots. To get a tip out of these guys, a girl needed to offer something more. It wasn't unusual to see a guy grab a bar maid and pull her down on his lap for a kiss and a fast grope. She'd complain and maybe slap at his offending hands, but with a smile or a joke so he would know she wasn't really that upset. If he paid for that round, he'd always throw an extra buck or two on her serving tray. Before the owner hired a girl, she was told about the local customs and all of the hazards of the job. As a general rule, the men didn't bring any women to the El Bolero Tavern, but there were exceptions to this, like for a party, and most of the customers behaved better when wives and girlfriends were present.

I had gotten up at my normal time and driven over to Billy's to pick up my load. The delivery was less than thirty miles away and I got back before noon. I went back over to Billy's again and was surprised to find my father and brother there visiting with Billy. They were talking about cars and trying to decide whether the new Chevies were an improvement or a disappointment for that new model year. I liked the '63 Biscayne, but I'd bought the new '62 Impala when they had first been put up for sale the year before. We went inside the house to continue our discussion where it was warmer. Theresa went and got us all some beer and brought out a bottle of Four Roses for Billy and my father. Billy drank his neat, but my father preferred his mixed in ice and water, so Theresa brought him an ice filled highball glass and a pitcher of water. The first thing my father did after fixing his drink was to stand up and propose a toast for my birthday.

"To my son "Yutch", on the day he legally becomes a man. Happy birthday son, may you have another hundred years." Everyone drank, even Theresa took a sip from Billy's beer glass while he was drinking down his shot. We stayed in Billy's kitchen drinking and talking about cars and family for a few hours. It was a good time, with none of us currently arguing or on the outs. I didn't drink very much and neither did Ray, but dad and Billy became pretty snockered from drinking the hard stuff. At about five I got up and told them I was heading on home. Ray said that he had a hot date in New London and asked if I'd drop my father off on the way home so that he wouldn't have to drive all the way home just to turn around and drive back to the city. I didn't really want to do it, but figured I wouldn't really be going too far out of my way. We had just crossed the bridge into Groton when my father got it in his head that he wanted to buy me my first legal drink in a tavern. "Let's stop off at the El Bolero for one quick drink and then we'll leave Yutch. It isn't everyday I can buy you your first legal drink you know."

I didn't feel like arguing with him about it, and I figured he'd decide to stay there after the drink and I'd just leave him with his regular gang if he wouldn't leave. After Ginny Speers quit working as a bar maid at the El Bolero a few months before, my mother started allowing my father to go back in there once in awhile. His other bar choices were even less savory options in her considered opinion. When we got to the parking space in the alley behind the bar, my father hopped out of my truck and made straight for the tavern's back door. I just assumed he had to take a leak really bad. I locked up the truck and followed behind him a minute or so later, only to be greeted with a whole room full of people and shouts of "SURPRISE" from all over the bar. The whole place was packed with family and friends. Ten minutes later, Billy and Theresa showed up with Ray and one of his dates. It wasn't a tradition to exchange birthday presents in my family. Money had usually been in short supply when I was growing up, and what there was, had been needed for much more basic purposes. I hadn't had a birthday party since I was about seven or eight. This was a real surprise, especially seeing the shuffleboard table filled with wrapped presents that were all for me. Ellen was responsible for me getting all those presents, I knew that because she had been really shocked when I first told her that we didn't get or give birthday presents in our family. After her first birthday, when I foolishly failed to get her anything, I'd never missed another chance to get one or more for her on her birthdays. She had always gotten me something as well. In fact, Ellen had converted most of the family by then, simply because she was always bringing birthday presents to anyone who had a birthday.

After we put a lot of the tables together, we all sat down and celebrated my birthday. I decided to let my hair down a little and was soon walking around with a glass filled with whiskey and Seven-up in my hand, and, in a short time, had gotten myself quite a buzz. It was funny watching all my uncles and aunts getting bombed too. Ellen had arranged with the tavern owner for a discount price on any full bottles of booze we had at our tables, and we only paid the Happy Hour price on all pitchers of beer. Even so, the bar tab for the evening was more than three hundred bucks. With the promise of free drinks, no one held back, and even Uncle Bill was swacked out of his gourd by ten o'clock that night. There were three or four regulars in the bar, sitting on their stools and just enjoying their normal routine. My father was keeping their shot glasses full everytime he happened to think of it, so there were no complaints coming from any of them about the noise and the crowding. It was about ten thirty or so when our birthday party mood was broken up by the entrance of five men who were drunk and looking for trouble. These were guys on a bowling team that had gotten half a snoot full at the bowling alley and had come over to the El Bolero after being cut off at the bowling alley's bar. The first thing they did was go up to the bar and order up their drinks. As soon as they had them they started yelling for somebody to get all the shit off of the shuffleboard table so that they could play themselves a game or two. The owner came over and started talking quietly to the new guys, telling them that there was a private party going on and that the shuffleboard table wouldn't be available for the evening.

"Well fuck that! We came here to drink and play shuffleboard, and our Goddamned money spends every bit as good as theirs does. Tell them to move that shit away or else I'll move it my own damn self." I knew that there was definitely going to be a problem when I noticed a familiar smile on my father's face. When I looked over at Billy, he had that same look too. Uncle Donald was there and he was already standing up and moving closer to the shuffleboard table. I knew that I better do something if I didn't want to see World War III breaking out in the bar. I grabbed a bottle of Four roses and got up to offer the guys a few drinks and to tell them that we'd probably be finished up soon and then they could play shuffleboard to their heart's content. I had gone maybe two steps towards them when I heard my Uncle Bill yell out to the men. Uncle Bill was a very mild mannered guy almost all of his life. I'd never seen him drunk before though.

"You touch that shuffleboard table and you'll get my foot up your ass!" Even Aunt Margaret started laughing, mostly because no one ever expected to hear that kind of talk out of Uncle Bill's mouth. He stood up to his full five foot seven inch height and swayed there with only one hand on his table to steady himself. All of the bowlers were in their late twenties or early thirties, and they looked like they were no strangers to hard physical work. Billy, Ray, Lenny and I were the only young guys at the party, but I knew Uncle Donald and my father both could hold their own if needed.

"You better just sit your ass down you old drunk bastard or we'll see who's foot will wind up in whose ass!" This came from a different one of the bowlers, but he made the mistake of taking three or four steps towards Uncle Bill as he was shouting at him. Billy was up in a flash and the melee was on. If everybody hadn't already been drunk, we would have just taken it out back in the alley and it probably would have wound up being just Billy and that one guy and be all over and forgotten in five minutes or so. But everybody was drunk, and in a few seconds we were all searching for someone to hit. None of those bowlers were slouches and they gave as good as they could under those conditions. My father and Uncle Donald more than handled their own, and I was grateful that my father was really drunk and just having a good time and wasn't mad or anything. Billy was pounding away at the guy that had yelled at Uncle Bill and all of the women were yelling and screaming, equally divided between the ones who were trying to stop it and the ones who were cheering the men on.