The demise of Bennigan's restaurants reminded me of a stunt my high-school classmate Charles pioneered to get us drink service before we were of age.

One Friday night Charles drove me and himself to the Bennigan's on the South Loop in Houston, which wouldn't admit minors after 9 p.m. (The state's drinking age was 19 then.) We entered, and the greeter led us to a table and handed out menus.

The instant her back was turned, Charles headed toward the men's room. He returned in less than a minute with two used highball glasses he'd plucked off an empty table along the way. He set them in front of us and winked at me.

Within a couple of minutes our waiter introduced himself. Charles ordered us a platter of potato skins and "a couple more Jack and Cokes," gesturing toward the glasses before us. The waiter glanced at them, nodded, and left.

After polishing off the appetizer and our first round of cocktails, we settled the tab and moved to the bar, glasses in hand. By then it was past 9:00, and the staff assumed we were of age.

We could sit at the bar and drink like grownups until closing time.

I suppose now we'd be considered felons.

Posted by: Michael Rittenhouse at 05:34 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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