This riot was more fun. No one got physically harmed, and it was a rush to see all my supporters!

Setting: San Antonio, TX 1987

My friend Margie and I decided to check out a new hotspot by the name of "Club Miami". It was the cool happening place at the time (or so we thought). I mean, c'mon! They're letting us in, and we're underage! This bar is open to teens!! WOW!

So that began our introduction to the bar scene. When we got there. We were so... freaking... disappointed. Shit. We got ourselves all dolled up for nothing! Sure - yeah, we got in - we even paid a cover charge. But I don't know what for. There was no bar in the bar. I think the top age present was 20. We were so bummed. Add on top of that - we were the only white girls in the place. Now - I grew up in San Antonio. The hispanic population in good ol' SA is HUGE. I have NO problems with people that are not white. None whatsoever - but apparently, some of da homegirls didn't like the hueras or if I screwed up that spelling: chica blancas invading their turf. After receiving many sneers & eat shit looks from the girls, we decided to leave. There was no beer in the bar - but there was beer in my car!!! Vaya con didos peeps. Out the door we went.

We set across the parking lot to my car, but that's funny... DUDE WHERE'S MY CAR!? Holy crap! Someone stole my car! I was just beside myself! Who in their right mind would steal my car??? It's a piece of shit! I darted to the friendly rent-a-cop in the parking lot and tearfully explained my situation. I even told him that my car was a piece of shit, and should not be on the "want list" of any grand auto theft person who wasn't smoking crack. (Side note - it was a white 1984 Dodge Colt, hatchback, it looked like a fucking egg on wheels. Would YOU want to steal that? You can imagine my confusion better now.) So - Mr. Rent a Cop asked me where I parked my car. I pointed to the blank spot where my car had been parked. At this bit of information, he put his radio down, and gently informed me that my car had not, in fact, been stolen - it had been towed by the guy that owned the dive bar on the corner. He said that the guy didn't like Club Miami patrons, and decided to get back at them by designating parking spots as "No parking". He also painted "No Parking" on the curb in tiny little letters, just like this. It's very hard to read this, isn't it? Now imagine you are in a dark parking lot, and someone has written "No Parking" in teeny faded letters. Are you going to see this? I THINK NOT!!!

I headed over to the bar. This happened to be a "Over 21" bar - meaning, I can't get in. I yanked open the door and yelled into the smoky haze that poured out - HEY! GET THE FUCKING OWNER OVER HERE PRONTO !!! Every head in there rotated in my direction. A huge shadow loomed over me, and I was thusly introduced to the owner of this dive bar.

Have you guys seen "Porky's?" If you haven't seen Porky's, this description will mean absolutely nothing to you - but I swear to GOD this guy... was... Porky. He looked just like that fat round man. Unbelievable. If I hadn't been so pissed - I would have asked for his autograph. But he pissed me off, and I was going to let him know it. "Sir - did you tow my car?" (hey - this is Texas - everyone is Sir or Ma'am). He grunted, considered me for a moment, and said "I dunno... did you park there?" he gestured with one obscenely swollen finger. God knows where that thing's been... "Yes - my car was parked there, I was in that stupid club over there for 15 minutes, I came out and my car is gone!" He mulled that over, then cracked an idiotic grin and said, "Then Hell yeah I towed your car! That there is a "No Parking Zone". I looked at him for a second and then broke into a verbal barrage like no other. I cussed him up and down. I cursed his mother, his father, any children he might have, and his dog. I swore like a sailor. I was on a roll, and ain't no one was gonna stop me! He waited until I took a breath, then handed me a business card, and told me to call the number there, that's who towed my car. And then he dropped the bomb: "It's my brother's towing company". He started to laugh, turned away and shut the door on my face. I was incredulous! I began to kick the door, and beat on it. Margie, in the meantime had done the only thing she could do.. She called my Dad. We needed a ride!

The hell I was raising, (the shouting and screaming) attracted the attention of people heading to Club Miami. They stopped, and stood around to watch the show. A couple of them had to have gone in the club and told them of the drama going on outside. Apparently - this guy had quite the racket going with his brother and regularly towed cars. NOBODY was happy with this man, and now some crazy little white chick was reading him the riot act.

He came back up and told me to stop beating on his door, or he'd call the cops. I told him to go ahead. I was so mad at this point, I didn't care WHAT he did. He bellowed in to his wife to call the police, and stood outside. I guess he wanted to guard his door, because by now there was a crowd of about 20 people standing around. They were starting to holler & cat call at the man. Some were inciting others to throw bricks through his windows. I was just waiting for the angry mob with the pitchforks & torches to show... ahhh - THAT would've been sweet!

His wife came out and told us the cops were on the way. Then she began to harangue me for verbally abusing her husband. I told her to shut the fuck up and said my father was on his way to pick me up. I told her that her & her husband could explain to my dad why they towed my car, and the nice little racket that her family had going on. She said "Well - when you're dad gets here, I'm going to tell him what a foul-mouthed person you are."... my reply? 'SHUT UP YOU SPERM-BURPING WHORE! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY FACE!!' Now apparently, those were the magic words for the crowd behind me to expand and advance. They ran back into their little bar and locked the door. The crowd stood outside chanting until the cops showed up. and then POOF they were gone.

Cops are like magic!! So here I am on a muggy night in downtown San Antonio, talking about the situation with the cops. The bar owners popped out, and told them what a bad person I was, and that I had tried to get them killed. I told the police that they had a racket going, where they had their brother towing cars from the parking lot. The police then informed both of us - that they had already received complaints on this very occurence, and they would like it to stop. About this time, my dad drove up. I ran to him, and started explaining the whole damn mess. I heard someone scuffle up behind me, and turned to see Porky himself. "That your dad?" he grumbled. "Well - duh, he's the only other white guy here genius" At this, the man started to tell my dad what a foul mouthed bad temper little thing I was. And my dad... my WONDERFUL daddy - who I've never heard say a cuss word in his life - replied "Shut up asshole" And that was that. I think that man gave up on us.

We left to retrieve my car. Had to pay $50 towing fees - but I had my egg back - and I had actually had a fun night.

My dad never mentioned it to me again, other than to tell me that I must get my mouth from my mother....

NORM!