Plus ça change et fuckin cetera

So, remember I was telling about that table load of drunk-assed locals?
Well, after a bit this bigassed Mercedes pulls up, and it's one of their wives, come to collect her old man.
And, in the car, there's this kid, maybe 8 or so.
And the kid sits in the car for the 20 or 30 minutes it takes for the old lady to prise the alterkokker away from his drinking buddies.

Kind of disheartening to see that, 40-odd years on, little kids are STILL having to sit in cars waiting for a drunken guardian.
See, the thing is, when you're little like that, you don't really have any big perspective that tells you the Grandpa (in this case) or Dad that you're waiting for is just WRONG, but you DO have this kind of nagging, unsettling feeling that  the whole deal just ain't right.
Happy to say, this kid was able to just sit in the nice car with the AC on, and it was only a half hour or less, and the old broad finally got her husband piled into the back seat.
Fortunately for him, he wasn't sitting in a shitty old Volkswagen with the motor running because it was the middle of winter, for an hour and a half or more, with his dog, waiting and waiting.
And he could see his Grandpa, instead of being in the middle of a big snowy parking lot.
And he din't have to, finally, get out and stand by the door and ask some guy going in to find his Dad and tell him he wanted to go home.

Sorry, sometimes stuff just comes back.

Oh yeah, Rule #1, if you've EVER left a little kid alone in a car while you went drinking, you don't get to be in The Tribe.

Raj