Kooky Drunks

I walked down to the rough meeting today in honor of my good friend Suburban Bill.  As is to be expected, after 6 months there has been an almost total turnover of the members of the group.  There were a few familiar faces, but not many.  I'm sorry these folks didn't latch on to what we have more securely but glad for the reminder that what I have is no sure thing.

I think that I enjoy these meetings because I don't have so many expectations.  At my normal suburban meetings I believe that I am The One - I need to share because I am way past profound and everyone will be immeasurably helped by my wisdom and insight.  Today's group is large and transitional and I'm almost never called on to share.  This is a good thing because I can actually try to listen to what others are saying instead of comprising my remarks in my head.

The meeting began with a call for a volunteer to read How It Works from our literature.

A guy pouring himself a cup of coffee spoke up: "That's me - just a minute."  He poured some creamer into his cup.  He got a stir stick and began to stir and stir and stir.  He tasted the coffee, added some sugar, and stirred some more.  It was all very deliberate and methodical and frankly quite hilarious.  I thought he was doing a little bit of shtick.  Eventually I realized that he was basically saying: "I'll get to this when I goddam feel like it."  Someone else grabbed the sheet and read.  The guy never did get back to his chair.

A guy talked about moving into a new place where he had his own bathroom.  This resonated with the crowd - a lot of people talked about the joys of pooping in a private bathroom.  It reminded me of the car I was driving at the end: it didn't have a radio or much of a heater and it didn't run very well if it was too cold or too hot or too wet or it hadn't been started in the last 20 minutes or so.  And it only had one headlight - you want to attract some attention from the cops drive slowly around bad neighborhoods at 3 in the morning in a car with only one headlight.  I should have just installed a big flashing neon "Drunk as Hell" sign on the roof.  When I bought my first new car I couldn't believe how pleasant it was to own something that worked right.  I turned the key and it started right up.  Amazing.

Another guy was celebrating 60 days of continuous sobriety.  He had recently completed an in-patient treatment program after being warned by his doctor that if he kept drinking he wouldn't last another 3 months.  "So I had a good reason to stop," he said, in the understatement of the morning.  Made me think about all of those people who blow through the Death stop sign and keep right on doing what they've been doing.  Being told that you're going to die isn't much of a warning to some folks.