I grew up in Oklahoma and when I was growing up Oklahoma was a "dry" state, meaning the sale and consumption of alcohol was prohibited by law. Nevertheless, my parents were nightly cocktail drinkers, which necessitated one of the more scary memories from my childhood, The Bootlegger.
He came from Missouri on some regular schedule always on a Thursday night. He was a big, fat man and I remember him huffing and puffing as he carried the cases of Jim Beam and Gilbey's Gin up our front steps. I was scared to death of him.