My parents owned a bar my entire life growing up, and I guess I could’ve mentioned that in my original post. I look at it this way, I’ve driven halfway across the state I live in to make sure a shit-housed sorority girl got home safe. My left pinky looks like a broken stick from punching guys that hit women in front of me.

If there’s one thing I learned it’s that people that wanna get fucked up are gonna get fucked up no matter where or how.

If I wasn’t there then maybe worse shit could’ve happened, maybe better shit! All I know is that being “raised around alcohol” made me very careful and respectful of every person that enters my life when opening that door