People. I can't drink em. I can't get drunk on a bottle of ex-wife or fatherless children left in my wake. No matter how many times there's hope? Another chance? Then they fade smaller and smaller to black. No, it's the alcohol that gets me drunk. Seems so obvious now but man it took a long time living sober to figure that one out. Surely I could get drunk on a bottle of low self worth right? Childhood abuse must be worth at least a six pack of beer? Failures? What about impending doom! Fear! Aren't there happy pills for that? How about self-pity. Just a double shot of self-pity to erase the loser in me for a few minutes or hours? I mean where else could I turn? I medicate my soul sickness by wallowing in alcoholic delusion? What else but drink myself away from myself. How else can I get away? I needed the imaginary camaraderie, to control the subtle stimulus of the barstool. A perfect guest host, all things to all people as I drive by life in my big rig with a swiveling seat.
I could write my own script for my own cast of characters. To be everything on the inside and still nothing on the outside will have to do. To know everything about everything except why I'm there. It's 8:12 am. People will start showing up soon. Get drunk. Shoot pool. Fall in love with the over the hill cowgirl who has a place to live and car. I'll need to volley for her attention. There will be competition.
IT'S MY BIRTHDAY
Not really. It just slipped out. I don't even know why? I heard the word birthday on the TV and just blurted out it was my birthday! The barkeep poured me a complementary draft and said here, on the house! Damn. A free beer. I wasn't going to turn it down so yep, it's my birthday today. I liked it. It felt good really, my birthday. Big day for me!
I drifted away for a bit to my old house or some old house where my wife and kids were waiting for me to get home from work. No stepdads just me.. There was presents and cake my daughter made with mom? The kitchen was a happy mess. A table setting for a real Dad. My son waiting for me to get home just to see me and do anything I wanted. Bills paid, pictures, nice furniture. I was younger then. Good times. Yeah. Then a wave of maybe it was all what I thought they were doing without me. I had been replaced. I should just drink a few beers and not talk.
Yep. Life before time stopped, before I went crazy making breakfast. Before I burned the toast, smashed the toaster on the floor and everybody ran to the neighbors. Strange really? One day I'm in my home with my family and the next I'm sleeping in my truck behind the Bar with a restraining court order. Waking up at 4am freezing and shaking with no gas or smokes. OK forget all the birthday crap. I'm ready for some hard stuff. Vodka, it's almost noon. People will be coming in for liquid lunch. I can act like I'm a working guy who just got here for a quick few beers and fast pace conversation about sports. I'll just mimic what's on TV...
THE AA POLICE ARE HERE
Minding my own business these two show up. I recognized them from AA. I didn't know them or like them really but they were familiar. The bartender pointed at me. One tall dude and the other a wannabe biker with the whole biker costume on. They were here for me? I'm the 12 Step call? They came over and talked sober stuff and I listened. Not because I wanted any part of it but it was mid afternoon and I was about broke and not nearly drunk enough for the day. They said they were there to take me to detox. It was all so weird really. As if this whole thing was going on behind my back. Everything was arranged already? The bed at Pocasset mental health, the only detox around. They said there was a few nips in the car so not even sure why but I went along and hopped in the back. I didn't seem to care one way or the other what happened or where I was going. I had no place to be. I had no place to live, no money or job. Nothing. I did remember the Judge ordering me to go to AA but not sure when that was?
The next day I met the other guests in the sitting room where a refrigerator was stocked with little cartons of milk and bologna with yellow mustard. On top were loaves of white bread. FOOD. Man that was good stuff. I hadn't eaten in a while apparently. A woman was talking to me about her royalty or something. She was a Baroness and lived down Cape. Much older than me but looked like money even in her frazzled condition. I got her number. I was sober and full now, ready to leave with my future prospect in my pocket. I walked right out the door through the parking lot and to the road. Never having been here before, I decided to go left. Picking up the pace kind of waiting for somebody to grab me but they didn't..
It was a new day, Wednesday. I hardly remembered Tuesday. I knew nothing about Wednesday. Just the empty lost feeling in my gut. The occasional racing thoughts blinding my mind. I needed to keep moving, it was all I could do for Wednesday. I knew the sun was out and I needed some cash to drink. Under these desperate circumstances and with my new tale of woe I decided to stop by where my Mother worked. She was good for 20 bucks to help her poor struggling son. If she didn't have it I could easily steal it from the register when she wasn't looking. Yup...I had a plan. I could be drunk by mid afternoon.
Author
stepsherpa