That would be my Grandfather, Hezekiah Steamer.
On Saturday afternoons he'd tell my mom he was taking me to the zoo. Just as soon as we were out of sight, however, we'd head straight for Big Bob's Bar and Billiards, down on fourteenth street. Grandpa called it Big Bob's.
What a great way to spend a day. I'd sit there for hours watching Gramps play One Pocket, while sipping on a Pepsi and eating peanuts.
One time Grampa was playing a fellow from out of town. While attempting a tight shot out of the stack the guy double hits the cue ball, and doesn't say anything. Well, my Grandfather, being the stickler about the rules of One Pocket that he was, called him on it. The guy immediately takes offense at being called a cheat, draws his gun, and shoots Gramps in the foot. He then beats a hasty retreat out to his car and speeds off.
We wrap a bandage around Grandpa's injured foot, and limp off for home.
As we're walking up the sidewalk to my house my mom is standing on the porch waiting for us. She sees the blood soaked bandage on his foot and asks what happened.
My Grandfather says, "Well, it's like this. We were at the zoo watching this animal trainer give an enema to an elephant when all of a sudden the great beast shit's down the man's arm and stampedes through the crowd, stepping on my foot as it runs by."
"Do you want me to take you to the hospital?" Asks my mom.
"No," says Grandpa, "but you might keep an eye out for that elephant. It'll be the one with a garden hose sticking out it's ass."
I sure miss those trips to the zoo. :smile: