people like me.” Two fifteen-minute tapes were played. Both were soothing and disturbingly pleasant.
When the tapes finished, our group took turns commenting on what we got out of them. Turns out I was the only one who’d been to more than two meetings.
“How do we end this meeting?” a middle-aged guy asked. “Do we just leave?”
“Every meeting I’ve been to so far has closed with the Lord’s Prayer,” I said. “We stand in a circle, hold hands, and recite it.”
Our group stood in a circle, held hands, and recited the Lord’s Prayer.
“Then what usually happens is everyone says, ‘Keep coming back; it works if you work it sober,’” I said. “Then it’s done.”
A crusty old guy who looked like Allen Ginsberg fidgeted and cleared his throat. “I don’t like that gung-ho, rah-rah stuff. I don’t go in for that sort of group cheerleading kind of thing.” He glanced at us through thick horn-rimmed glasses. His eyes were focused in different directions.
“Well, that’s just what they do,” I said.
“Yeah, well I don’t go for that stuff,” he said gruffly.
A young guy said, “Oh, well, if that’s what they do, it’s kind of nice.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t go in for that,” Ginsberg growled.
I looked at the young guy and shrugged. He looked at me and shrugged. The four of us looked at each other for a moment and we left.
[Sunday, January 12]
I’m being excluded now that I don’t drink, and I’m hurt and angry. My family went out to lunch with Liv and Reed and Kelly and Joel yesterday after our kids’ soccer game. Max plays on the same team as Kelly and Joel’s son, Ryan, and Liv and Reed’s son, Seth. Max and Ryan have been friends since preschool, that’s how Kelly and I connected, and Max and Seth attend the same grade school, which is how Liv and I got to be friends. I threw the first bacchanal dinner party and introduced Kelly, Liv, Wendy, and Viola; they and their spouses liked each other. So yesterday, after lunch, Seth came over to play with Max and pretty soon the two were asking if Seth could sleep over. Reed answered the phone when I called. He began hemming and hawing when I offered to have Seth sleep over.
“Uh, Liv and I are going out to dinner tonight and we don’t want Pete (Seth’s older brother) to be alone,” he said. “So I’ll pick up Seth.”
This morning, when I took Max to soccer practice, Joel was sitting in the stands hunched over with one elbow on his knee propping up his head with his hand. I sat down next to him.
“You look like you’re hurting,” I said.
“I’m hung over,” Joel said. “Kelly and I went to Gabriel’s last night and drank way too much.”
“Just the two of you tied one on?”
Joel opened his mouth and shut it. After a pregnant pause he said, “Uh, no. We went out with Liv and Reed. Can you believe they’d never been there?”
“Oh,” I said, feeling like I’d been punched. Joel had probably taken Ryan to Liv and Reed’s last night and Pete probably babysat. More than likely, Ryan slept at Liv and Reed’s and Joel had picked the boys up and brought them to soccer this morning.
I thought back to soccer practice last week when Reed and I were sitting together and Reed asked me how the not drinking thing was going. I told him fine and he said, “You know, some people wouldn’t want to go out with a person who doesn’t drink.”
“Fuck ’em,” I said.
[Monday, January 20]
Max and I got home after skiing Granite Peak in Wausau, Wisconsin, this weekend, which was the weekend Emily had her retreat. Max and I drove to Wausau on Friday, and I rented skis for Max. We wanted to be ready to hit the slopes first thing Saturday morning. As we were pulling on our long johns Saturday morning, it became apparent I’d forgotten to pack Max’s ski pants, so we killed half the morning shopping for a pair. It was a blessing in disguise. By the time we hit the chairlift, the temperature had warmed to a balmy
When the tapes finished, our group took turns commenting on what we got out of them. Turns out I was the only one who’d been to more than two meetings.
“How do we end this meeting?” a middle-aged guy asked. “Do we just leave?”
“Every meeting I’ve been to so far has closed with the Lord’s Prayer,” I said. “We stand in a circle, hold hands, and recite it.”
Our group stood in a circle, held hands, and recited the Lord’s Prayer.
“Then what usually happens is everyone says, ‘Keep coming back; it works if you work it sober,’” I said. “Then it’s done.”
A crusty old guy who looked like Allen Ginsberg fidgeted and cleared his throat. “I don’t like that gung-ho, rah-rah stuff. I don’t go in for that sort of group cheerleading kind of thing.” He glanced at us through thick horn-rimmed glasses. His eyes were focused in different directions.
“Well, that’s just what they do,” I said.
“Yeah, well I don’t go for that stuff,” he said gruffly.
A young guy said, “Oh, well, if that’s what they do, it’s kind of nice.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t go in for that,” Ginsberg growled.
I looked at the young guy and shrugged. He looked at me and shrugged. The four of us looked at each other for a moment and we left.
[Sunday, January 12]
I’m being excluded now that I don’t drink, and I’m hurt and angry. My family went out to lunch with Liv and Reed and Kelly and Joel yesterday after our kids’ soccer game. Max plays on the same team as Kelly and Joel’s son, Ryan, and Liv and Reed’s son, Seth. Max and Ryan have been friends since preschool, that’s how Kelly and I connected, and Max and Seth attend the same grade school, which is how Liv and I got to be friends. I threw the first bacchanal dinner party and introduced Kelly, Liv, Wendy, and Viola; they and their spouses liked each other. So yesterday, after lunch, Seth came over to play with Max and pretty soon the two were asking if Seth could sleep over. Reed answered the phone when I called. He began hemming and hawing when I offered to have Seth sleep over.
“Uh, Liv and I are going out to dinner tonight and we don’t want Pete (Seth’s older brother) to be alone,” he said. “So I’ll pick up Seth.”
This morning, when I took Max to soccer practice, Joel was sitting in the stands hunched over with one elbow on his knee propping up his head with his hand. I sat down next to him.
“You look like you’re hurting,” I said.
“I’m hung over,” Joel said. “Kelly and I went to Gabriel’s last night and drank way too much.”
“Just the two of you tied one on?”
Joel opened his mouth and shut it. After a pregnant pause he said, “Uh, no. We went out with Liv and Reed. Can you believe they’d never been there?”
“Oh,” I said, feeling like I’d been punched. Joel had probably taken Ryan to Liv and Reed’s last night and Pete probably babysat. More than likely, Ryan slept at Liv and Reed’s and Joel had picked the boys up and brought them to soccer this morning.
I thought back to soccer practice last week when Reed and I were sitting together and Reed asked me how the not drinking thing was going. I told him fine and he said, “You know, some people wouldn’t want to go out with a person who doesn’t drink.”
“Fuck ’em,” I said.
[Monday, January 20]
Max and I got home after skiing Granite Peak in Wausau, Wisconsin, this weekend, which was the weekend Emily had her retreat. Max and I drove to Wausau on Friday, and I rented skis for Max. We wanted to be ready to hit the slopes first thing Saturday morning. As we were pulling on our long johns Saturday morning, it became apparent I’d forgotten to pack Max’s ski pants, so we killed half the morning shopping for a pair. It was a blessing in disguise. By the time we hit the chairlift, the temperature had warmed to a balmy
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