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Thursday, August 21, 2008

Fools and drunks...

If you are fortunate enough to find a cab driver who speaks English, they can take you anywhere and find you anything. I threw my duffel in the back seat and sat up front, unnerving the driver. I watched the ferry in the side mirror grow smaller as we cruised through the snow.

As I had no idea where to go, I asked the driver to pick somewhere colorful, possibly gold rush historic, and if he could, near the water. I got what I asked for. The Alaskan Hotel , turn of the century Gold Rush, ornate bar on the ground floor, (very important) and rooms upstairs. The rooms even had kitchenettes, and the room I was given, on the third floor, overlooked the Red Dog Saloon next door and a Mexican Restaurant. Home sweet home. I bounced a couple of times on the springs and headed downstairs.

Swinging open the heavy, oak doors, I stepped into the past. Awesome. I leaned against the bar in that way drunks have when they ooze into their comfort zone, settling in for a bender. A couple of beers later, the bar manager made mention that he was from Houston. A few more and I learned he dealt coke. And after that, I had a job. I would work the day shift behind the stick, with rent being taken out of my check, so I lived on tips, and going home was as simple (or not) as stumbling upstairs. God does indeed look after fools and drunks, and I had elected for double coverage.

For the first week or so, I held everything pretty close, keeping my thumb tightly on the control button. But that failed to stop me from making crying, pitifully drunk, collect calls back to Texas, telling my wife how much better our (her) life was going to be once I saved enough money to send for her and our baby.

My tips added up and I sent the money for my family. I also elected to stop sleeping with one of the waitresses. After all, I had standards. I ended it after a shift one night, laying with her in my room, watching the snow glow as it fell through the light of a street lamp. When drinking I like to ask pointed questions, so I did. I asked her why she bothered with me, knowing I was married and moving the family to be with me.

"Because you're the loneliest man I ever met..."

She had no idea.

1 comment:

Ingrid said...

Wow, now I know what you mean "The underside of Honesty".. deep stuff.

Now the only thing that I need to know it..

"She had no idea" - what, why? write more, what didn't she have an idea of!!!!?

Take care, and I'll be waiting.

My new disclaimer...yeah I know.

Okay, the old disclaimer was tired. The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be anymore...so now for something more refreshing.

I have recently changed my views regarding women. Seems I had some issues with the fairer sex due to past pain and self- centered fear. (Yes...duh applies.)

I'm done with that.

Being in recovery has helped me change my entire life, perceptions and attitudes. I cannot change my history but I can change my today and my future.

I recently realized that the women I know in recovery are some of the strongest, bravest, most gentle and kind teachers I have ever had. You exemplify integrity and spiritual growth, and I hope you know who you are.

Some may know of my past marital and relationship history and been a participant in them as well. It's past and that's where it stays...in the past.

I own my part in those failures but claim no more responsibility in any misery you may be experiencing. I am sorry, but it's time to get off the cross. We need the wood.


Thank you all...