No beer at Moody's

As a new activist, I learned it was customary for groups of volunteers to cap important political meetings with a visit to a local watering hole, where they would muse about events of the day while enjoying the benefit of cold, liquid refreshment.

People from the same neighborhood would huddle at the conclusion of a meeting, discuss the recreational options available to them, then organize a rendezvous at the selected gathering place, always taking care to select a location that offered ample free parking.         

I was welcomed into one of those groups shortly after my appearance on the political scene. I had never before entered a bar nor imbibed alcoholic beverages. But that didn’t matter. This was a social outing and I was now a member of the group.

We arrived individually at Moody’s Pub, in Edgewater, and pulled up chairs around a small table. One of my cohorts ordered a pitcher of beer and was politely told that it could not be served because one person at the table – me – was underage.

My colleague quietly said, “OK,” sighed noticeably, folded his hands, and placed them gently on the table. Nobody spoke.

I realized I was a party pooper. They all came there to drink and I was preventing that from happening.        

So, I rose from my chair, excused myself, and drove home. I think they had a better time after I left.