Ohio -- The New Texas

Last week, bartender Keleigh Rae Bowling had to interrupt a drunken couple having sex on the Skee-Ball table where she works.

"Everybody can see you," she told them calmly but in a voice that made clear who was in charge. "You're going to have to leave."

So they did.

After they trashed one of the bar's bathrooms.

So there.

If the Ohio General Assembly decides to allow pistol-packing patrons to saddle up to the bar, Bowling is done breaking up entanglements, violent or otherwise.

First, a little background on Bowling: She started serving drinks for a living when she was a student at Baldwin-Wallace College, where she earned both her bachelor's and master's degrees. She's 42 now, and she works at two bars in the Cleveland area, one of which is also a restaurant.

When it comes to bad behavior, the 5-foot-9-inch veteran bartender has seen it all and broken up a lot of it. She sees it as part of her job.

"It's a myth that a lot of people get angry when they drink," she said. "But a lot of them do lose control, and that's when I'm supposed to step in."

She's a strong woman, but she's nobody's fool.

"If Ohio allows customers to walk in with concealed weapons, how am I going to know if they're armed? What if they're wearing an ankle holster? What am I supposed to do, pat them down?"

Why is Keleigh Rae Bowling asking these questions?

For that, all eyes turn to Columbus — the new Texas.

Last week, the Republican majority in the Ohio Senate sent another valentine to far-right extremists trying to take the state hostage. This latest stunt was a nibble on the neck of the National Rifle Association.

The bill — which also was supported by Democrats Capri Cafaro, Jason Wilson and Joe Schiavoni — would allow people with concealed carry permits to wear hidden weapons in bars, restaurants and open-air stadiums that serve alcohol.

Settle down, you rational people. Understand that the bill would allow these establishments to post signs saying, "Oh, no, you don't." That doesn't mean they wouldn't — bring in guns, that is. But there I go again, quibbling.

At the risk of sounding like a worn-out 45, let me start by acknowledging that this is yet another bill in Ohio's General Assembly that has nothing to do with the jobs, the jobs, the jobs they promised during last year's campaign.

Supporters of the bill like to point out that anyone carrying a weapon and drinking alcohol could face felony charges.

Aaron Marshall, a colleague of mine at The Plain Dealer, quoted the bill's sponsor, state Sen. Tim Schaffer:

"I agree that you shouldn't be mixing alcohol and guns," he said. "This bill doesn't allow concealed carry permit holders to consume alcohol. Period."

Fascinating.

Who are all these gun-toting, barhopping teetotalers? I've lived in Ohio all of my life. How did I miss these guys?

More importantly, how would Ohio's bars, restaurants and open-air stadiums figure out who's carrying the secret weapons? And who would intervene if the gunslingers were to decide to violate the law and down a Dortmunder? Tip a tequila? Sip a Seagram's?

We all know the answer to these questions, which is why none of the bill's supporters wants to discuss enforcement. I don't blame them.

Why would any elected official want to admit he or she wants to shift the burden of law enforcement onto hourly wage earners running themselves ragged to make a living as waiters, waitresses and bartenders? Who in their right minds would say out loud that hardworking people like Keleigh Rae Bowling should risk their safety — maybe their lives — to take on a heartland hustler who's decided he's just exceptional enough to break the law and take on Miss Kitty, too?

It should surprise no one that the Ohio Restaurant Association and various law enforcement groups oppose the bill, which now is headed to the Ohio House of Representatives.

It's also predictable that Tim Grendell — the state senator who ran for the House and then decided to keep his old job after he won — would think he's the voice of reason. Grendell stood on the Senate floor and insisted we all just need to have a little faith in the good intentions of heat-packing Buckeyes who want to walk into a place where alcohol flows like the roiling Mohican.

"There is no reason that trust ends when you walk into a bar or a restaurant," Grendell said, sounding like the lead singer in a country western band.

And I love country music, so you can imagine the embarrassment.

As a Buckeye, I mean.

Connie Schultz is a Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist for The Plain Dealer in Cleveland and an essayist for Parade magazine. To find out more about Connie Schultz (cschultz@plaind.com) and read her past columns, please visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.

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