Travelling puts me in different cities, this week i’ve been in the same city as one of the Team 100 members. So yesterday we went for ice cream 🙂 (thanks ST!).
At first it was a bit like internet dating for sober girls (i’ll be wearing jean shorts, you’ll be wearing black sandals). But soon it’s like two chicks sitting in the park, eating ice cream, talking about booze and how to create a life without it. I really enjoyed the visit and I learned a lot. This reaching out to sober people really helps me to continue to be sober. I just don’t think that talking to ‘a friend who understands’ is the same as talking to someone who has gone through (or is currently going through) the exact same fucking thing.
To cap off the delightful vacation day yesterday, a friend of Mr. Belle’s took us out for supper and then for ‘drinks’ … he knew we weren’t drinking and he took us to a very very loud, very popular pub, with a DJ and $4,50 for a tonic water. You know this kind of place. He wanted to show off how nice his drinking hole was (read that sentence again). And the evening was long. Holy, it was long. Our friend ordered a beer, no problem, i figured we’d be done in half an hour. But for his second round he ordered another pint of beer AND a double gin and tonic at the same time. While Mr. B and i sat without drinks (we’d had enough soda on the first round).
Long and loud and long and loud. That’s how i’d describe my 1.5 hrs in that bar.
One we got home, Mr. B admitted that being in a bar at all wasn’t a smart idea for him (he’s on day 87). I didn’t have any pangs at all, but he said that his friend’s drink “looked good” even though he knew he wasn’t going to drink. Note to self. That one visit to a bar in a year was plenty. The drunk girls singing Don’t Stop Believing were completely embarrassing. the bathroom was a disaster area, my feet stuck to the floor. And to quote Paul quoting others, “If you hang around a barber shop long enough, sooner or later you’re gonna get a haircut.”
No thanks. I’m happy at home with my tea and fresh cherries. Why couldn’t we have been sitting in the yard with Fuck You Wolfie lemonade having an actual conversation, instead of literally shouting to be heard, the conversation consisting of nouns and verbs alone, as the other complementary words were sucked up by the din of Journey and the DJ’s beat box and holy christ i’m never going there again.