The Texas Ranger's Daughter

One of my early girlfriends, during my youth, was the daughter of a Texas Ranger. I was fond of this girl, who was bold and outgoing, but I also feared her father, who was a strict law enforcement officer. She and I used to steal peaches from the nearby orchards and things like that. One time I took her to a nightclub on the Ballinger Highway known as the Bloody Bucket. It was known for violence. We were in this club, drinking beer and dancing, when she jumped up and said: "That was daddy's voice." Sure enough her father was in charge of a raid on this night club. She jumped up and ran to the Little Girl's Room and I was right behind her. Fortunately there were not any other people in this room. I jumped up on the comode and opened a window and straddled the sill and reached down and pulled her up and dropped her on the ground outside. Then I dropped down. We held hands and ran for blocks and blocks until we were a long way distant from the club. Then we walked until we found a pay phone booth. I called a cab and took her home, leaving my car on the parking lot of the club until the next day.