eXTReMe Tracker

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Lord, save me from my good ideas...

This was one of those times I felt like my head was on my shoulders for the sole purpose of keeping the rain out of my neck. I knew the move was a bad one, and I needed to do something quick.

Moving back to Hawaii was out; Alaska too. Texas, well, I had too many issues to go back. I felt I needed to succeed at something before I went home. (My priorities were skewed.)

I realized I could start my life over, re-invent myself into somebody. Not change my identity, or anything creepy like that, I could simply do or be whom and what ever I wanted. No one knew me. Except for 'her' and she was not going to be a problem.

(I hear this idea at meetings, not being comfortable in our own skin-combined with the ability to observe and reflect any group of people we want to be a part of, very much the chameleons of the dependency world.)

I had tended bar, worked in restaurants, the Army and Hospitals and sport fishing boats. Maybe I could do something new.

I was strolling through Fisherman's Wharf, thinking of going back in to the food service industry when I saw the sign. Help wanted. The sign was in front of a large barn-like building, with a giant, empty parking lot.

I knocked on the tin door, creaking it open as I did. The place was dim, and there were odd contraptions parked side by side through out the building. Pedi-cabs. A whole lot of Pedi-cabs.

The sign also read "No experience necessary." A little explanation might be in order. The term Pedi-stands for Pedal. The unit itself is the front part of a bicycle attached to basically, a love seat, with two wheels in back. The machine is powered by pedaling and I thought "How hard can that be?"

(I know I mentioned earlier that San Francisco is a series of hills, very large hills. At the time, this information failed to register.)

The Manager was smoking a joint in his office, and didn't seem the least bit concerned. He looked me up and down, and told me to take one for a spin in the parking lot, get the feel. (I always get a strange rush when I stumble into a job I am not prepared for and start winging it. The rush would not last.) The parking lot was flat and level, and having two wheels on the back, it was like driving a huge tricycle. I couldn't fall over if I tried.

So my job would be to ride around and pick up tourists and cruise them to the hot spots, giving them a little verbal history, and schmooze for tips along the way. And it would be good for me. (Just another self deluding reason to try something stupid.)

So I was hired. There ya go, hit the ground running son, good on ya. (I can be my biggest fan club.)

I pulled into traffic. Easy stuff. At this time I had no passengers, so of course it was easy. A large crowd of six people were waving at me from the corner. Sweet, my first fare. They would have to decide who was going, couldn't take all six. As I pulled to the corner, a smile frozen on my face, I realized there was not six of them. There were only two.

And they were freaking huge.

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 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 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...