Maggie's Farm

I must confess, Bird Dog, that in my youth I loved Bar Cars, even though I didn't drink much. But we had, and rode, commuter trains then, between Milwaukee and Chicago, and they usually had bar cars. When one is as innocent as I was then, there was a delicious frisson of wickedness in just settling into a seat in the bar car and ordering a drink. The seats were usually more comfortable than the seats in the other cars, and somehow, the view seemed better and the windows cleaner as we rolled along. On top of that, business women were rarely bold enough to sit alone in the bar car, so that was fun too.

Actually, the booze itself was beside the point. The brashness was the point. Young women didn't regularly go into bars anywhere unescorted in my not-so-flaming youth, so it all seemed, well, risque. And what young person doesn't like to seem like that?

Marianne