Sunday, April 1, 2007

A Talk Among Lowly Plebeians

“What do you so like about me?” Rosa asked me tonight in my car as I was driving her home after our A.A. meeting.

“I like your honesty,” I said. “You can be brutally honest and I know what to expect. Life is already filled with enough bullshit. I like a friend who will tell me like it is.”

“I like how open you can be about your limitations,” Rosa told me. “If I ask you about A.A. or your mental illness, you will tell me the truth. You don’t bullshit as well.”

“It can be a curse,” I said. “I sometimes say way too much. I share too much on my journal as well. I call it written and verbal diarrhea.”

Rosa laughed and said, “I think people respect you because of it.”

“I hope so,” I said, distracted, as I narrowly missed a car parked on the side of the road in a no parking zone.

I cursed loudly. Rosa quickly grabbed the "oh shit" handle above the passenger's door.

“It’s good to know something good comes out of it,” I then said after regaining my composure.

Rosa behaved herself at the A.A. meeting tonight. It was a “speaker” meeting where a local college professor from a major university came and talked for an hour about his ordeal and recovery from alcoholism. I found it inspiring and Rosa was mesmerized that an actual college professor was human enough and could deal with such problems like us lowly plebeians.

“Do you ever write about me on your journal?” Rosa then asked.

“I write about you all the time,” I replied. “I have come to see you as so important to my life and my best friend besides George.”

“George just uses you to borrow money so he can get drunk.”

I didn’t say anything as I pulled up in front of the rundown house Rosa is renting these days. I have known George for years and Rosa has only been on the scene as far as the gang is concerned for less than one. George, despite all his problems and drinking, is a good soul, and a gentle and good friend. I wish him and Rosa would make their peace.

“You want to come in?” Rosa asked.

“Nah,” I replied. “I am going to drive home and write about this.”

Rosa smiled and said, “I hope I get to be famous one day by your writings.”

“Good night and sleep tight,” I said as I winked as she shut my door, and I drove home and did exactly what I told her I was going to do. I sat down after supper with a mug of hot tea and a cigar, and began to write. My day is at an end. I am so damn tired and weary, and hope I will sleep tonight.

10 comments:

Teronni said...

And now I'm sitting here drinking my own mug of hot tea and reading about the famous Rosa!
I with her when she says people respect you for your candor--I certainly do.

Cheryl said...

I am wishing you sleep. Me too. It's late and I'm not too tired. It was a busy day and I'm just now catching up on my blogs. Visiting my friends.

Reading this post, and hearing how earnest you were with each other, I was afraid Rosa was going to say she was in love with you. Did that cross your mind? I'm glad it didn't go there.

I'll catch up with you tomorrow...

Cheryl

simonsays said...

I am sitting here with a mug of life-saving coffee, after waaaay too short of a night, hoping that YOU were able to sleep. Thanks once again, for the great stories, keep them coming! Jamie

KYRIE said...

I agree with Cheryl. I was looking forward to some drama. It was seem to be going tht way. Alas no soap opera for us today!

CRUSTYBEEF said...

once again, you've captured the very essence of pain and warmth by your wonderful choice of words.
I hope you don't mind, but I've added you to my blog list of CHOICE blogs...incredible.
May Monday find you with quarters in your pocket and a cigar that seems to last into tomorrow!
sincerely,
crustybeef~

Dorid said...

You know it's funny, because I was talking with a friend recently about the verbal and written diarrhea thing. I wonder sometimes, if those of us who have gone to therapy, who are used to telling our life stories to the nurses, therapists, doctors, and so on ad nauseum... if we are just so USED to spilling it all that it kinda becomes second nature.

Sometimes what we go through, both clients and caregivers, so erodes our sense of privacy and our personal boundries, that we really don't often think about just how much information we give out... we have just become comfortable from doing it.

Terri said...

if she only knew how famous she is becoming!

I laughed when I read about what you call the handle for the passenger. My 10 yr old cousin from KY called it the "lordhavemercyhandle". Too funny. Obviously she had to use it in my car or else I'd have never heard it!! Does that say something about my driving?

Proxima said...

I guess some things are universal... including the "Oh Shit" bar! I've even heard it referrenced to as such by Japanese drivers and passangers as well, they also have the 2 second eat the dropped food on the floor rule too. :>

-P

Anonymous said...

I think getting together in a room full of strangers to commiserate an addiction is useless. "So then I lost my (Substitute any word) wife/job/family...." That's all any AA meeting can ever really be, a bunch of lsoers together lamenting what their potential could hav ebeen. Now have a drink.

abbagirl74 said...

Have you ever thought of hooking Rosa up with George? Just a thought! :)