Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Sober Dating
I had a date this weekend. Met a guy for coffee. He was funny and charming and handsome and smart. And best of all, he seemed totally into me. Coffee turned into brunch, brunch turned into more coffee. We sat in an outside cafe in Georgetown for about five hours, talking. Then, he asks me why I don't drink.
We are comfortable at this point so I say, "I'm an alcoholic. I've been sober for thirteen years. So where did you grow up again?"
He thinks for a minute. Takes a sip of coffee. Looks at me and says, "I've been thinking about doing something about my drinking."
Mother fucker. I think, but don't say.
So I tell him my story. He encourages me to go on. I switch from flirty possibility mode to twelve step call mode. I tell him what it was like for me, what happened and what I'm like now. I tell him about meetings in the area. He asks questions. A lot of questions. He tells me he wants to stop but he doesn't know how.
I walk him to the closest clubhouse and we pick up a meeting schedule and a big book. He gives me a quick hug goodbye and tells me he wants to try out meetings. He calls me this morning to tell me he went to his first meeting and it was great. He knows he belongs. And he is so grateful.
Great.
This marks the fourth date in the past year that went something like this. Just call me the Mary Poppins of recovery. At my firm, you get a bonus for every new employee you recruit.
Can I get my toaster oven now?
We are comfortable at this point so I say, "I'm an alcoholic. I've been sober for thirteen years. So where did you grow up again?"
He thinks for a minute. Takes a sip of coffee. Looks at me and says, "I've been thinking about doing something about my drinking."
Mother fucker. I think, but don't say.
So I tell him my story. He encourages me to go on. I switch from flirty possibility mode to twelve step call mode. I tell him what it was like for me, what happened and what I'm like now. I tell him about meetings in the area. He asks questions. A lot of questions. He tells me he wants to stop but he doesn't know how.
I walk him to the closest clubhouse and we pick up a meeting schedule and a big book. He gives me a quick hug goodbye and tells me he wants to try out meetings. He calls me this morning to tell me he went to his first meeting and it was great. He knows he belongs. And he is so grateful.
Great.
This marks the fourth date in the past year that went something like this. Just call me the Mary Poppins of recovery. At my firm, you get a bonus for every new employee you recruit.
Can I get my toaster oven now?
Labels: Boy Stories, Pop Culture Casualty, Sober, sobriety
