a run for their money. Across and up the aisle, Victoria smiled provocatively and waved as I blushed and returned the favor, interrupted by the men’s cackling.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” asked Bobby, as he leaned over me and waved. “Hello, VIK-toria. Where have you been?”
“Where have YOU been, Bobby? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Come on, baby, you know where to find me.”
I pushed Bobby back. The fat from his stomach was making my arm sweat.
“Keep your ‘Glock’ in your pants, Bobby baby,” she said, as a heavy breeze passed by.
A man walked to the podium, slammed his notebook down, and yelled, “Isn’t it a great day to be sober?”
And with a feverish yell, “amen” followed from the crowd.
Larry Gates was one of the counselors at Stone River and was liked by all who entered. His white hair and trimmed beard made him look like Santa Claus, and his voice could be heard by all without the use of a microphone. He was full of life and energy and chose to pass his newfound gift to anyone who wished to listen and learn. His piercing blue eyes were overshadowed only by his sincere appearance, and his tailored suit was the only camouflage that hid the destruction done to his body.
“I said, isn’t it a great day to be sober?”
“Yes!” screamed the crowd.
“For those of you new here today, my name is Larry Gates, I am not the brother of billionaire Bill Gates, I am the alcoholic and drug addict Larry Gates…I am also a counselor at this fine establishment. If you look at me you might get the impression that I am well-to-do; well, you are wrong. I have, and am, nothing. I am starting from scratch at this point in my life. I do have a doctorate in engineering, so any of you who think you are smarter than me, you are wrong. I had… had a wife, two children, my own business, cars, $500,000 home and a six figure salary, most of it shot up my veins, snorted up my nose, or poured down in my belly. The other ‘most’ was taken away from me by the Honorable Judge Moody. So today, people, when I ask you if it is a great day to be sober—it is. It is. Today and every day after, if you are sober, is your birthday. So savor it, love it, and keep it close to your heart. Because this body has stolen, lied, cheated, and performed sexual acts I do not wish to talk about, in order to feed its disease.”
He left the podium and walked toward the center of the movie screen. “Well, I haven’t done one act, that spot is still tight as a pencil eraser…but anyway, I beg you to learn from what I have to teach you.”
Most of the patients were dead quiet, except for three or four women who continued to talk and laugh in the back of the auditorium. He walked calmly up the aisle, excused himself to everyone he passed down the row, and stood directly in front of them like a ten foot giant who hadn’t had a nicotine fix all day.
“Do you see the bridge through the window there?” he said as he pointed, but got no response from the women. “I said, Do you see the window?”
“Yes,” they all said quietly and looked quickly toward the window.
“Well, through that window is the covered bridge where all of you came in. So, everybody from this point to the main aisle, I want you to get up so they can leave, because I will not have anyone disrupt my lecture and prevent me from teaching the people who want to learn something.”
The auditorium was quiet.
“Come on, go. What, now you don’t want to leave?”
They all sat embarrassed and humiliated, and tried to muster up any small amount of defiance.
“I didn’t think so,” he said as he walked out and passed the people in the aisle. “You people can sit back down.”
I was cautious not to say anything, let alone breathe. For the first lecture I’d been to since I arrived, this sure was an eye opener , I thought. As I looked back, I saw many of the patients around the women stare disgustedly. The women sat defeated.
“All
“Well, well, what do we have here?” asked Bobby, as he leaned over me and waved. “Hello, VIK-toria. Where have you been?”
“Where have YOU been, Bobby? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Come on, baby, you know where to find me.”
I pushed Bobby back. The fat from his stomach was making my arm sweat.
“Keep your ‘Glock’ in your pants, Bobby baby,” she said, as a heavy breeze passed by.
A man walked to the podium, slammed his notebook down, and yelled, “Isn’t it a great day to be sober?”
And with a feverish yell, “amen” followed from the crowd.
Larry Gates was one of the counselors at Stone River and was liked by all who entered. His white hair and trimmed beard made him look like Santa Claus, and his voice could be heard by all without the use of a microphone. He was full of life and energy and chose to pass his newfound gift to anyone who wished to listen and learn. His piercing blue eyes were overshadowed only by his sincere appearance, and his tailored suit was the only camouflage that hid the destruction done to his body.
“I said, isn’t it a great day to be sober?”
“Yes!” screamed the crowd.
“For those of you new here today, my name is Larry Gates, I am not the brother of billionaire Bill Gates, I am the alcoholic and drug addict Larry Gates…I am also a counselor at this fine establishment. If you look at me you might get the impression that I am well-to-do; well, you are wrong. I have, and am, nothing. I am starting from scratch at this point in my life. I do have a doctorate in engineering, so any of you who think you are smarter than me, you are wrong. I had… had a wife, two children, my own business, cars, $500,000 home and a six figure salary, most of it shot up my veins, snorted up my nose, or poured down in my belly. The other ‘most’ was taken away from me by the Honorable Judge Moody. So today, people, when I ask you if it is a great day to be sober—it is. It is. Today and every day after, if you are sober, is your birthday. So savor it, love it, and keep it close to your heart. Because this body has stolen, lied, cheated, and performed sexual acts I do not wish to talk about, in order to feed its disease.”
He left the podium and walked toward the center of the movie screen. “Well, I haven’t done one act, that spot is still tight as a pencil eraser…but anyway, I beg you to learn from what I have to teach you.”
Most of the patients were dead quiet, except for three or four women who continued to talk and laugh in the back of the auditorium. He walked calmly up the aisle, excused himself to everyone he passed down the row, and stood directly in front of them like a ten foot giant who hadn’t had a nicotine fix all day.
“Do you see the bridge through the window there?” he said as he pointed, but got no response from the women. “I said, Do you see the window?”
“Yes,” they all said quietly and looked quickly toward the window.
“Well, through that window is the covered bridge where all of you came in. So, everybody from this point to the main aisle, I want you to get up so they can leave, because I will not have anyone disrupt my lecture and prevent me from teaching the people who want to learn something.”
The auditorium was quiet.
“Come on, go. What, now you don’t want to leave?”
They all sat embarrassed and humiliated, and tried to muster up any small amount of defiance.
“I didn’t think so,” he said as he walked out and passed the people in the aisle. “You people can sit back down.”
I was cautious not to say anything, let alone breathe. For the first lecture I’d been to since I arrived, this sure was an eye opener , I thought. As I looked back, I saw many of the patients around the women stare disgustedly. The women sat defeated.
“All
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