Full Circle Series- Day 2 "Orientation"

I rise at 5:00 AM even though I didn’t have to be up until 6:30 AM.  I have to say I am really looking forward to my 2 week stay with no sleep (again insert sarcasm here).  After breakfast we get the detailed version of the rules from African Uncle Buzz (see character list).  He states that he will be the guy that you will hate by the time you leave here.  I agree, I already hate him and I’ve only heard him talk for 10 minutes.

Ohhhh, watch out! It looks like we have some kidsters in the crowd already.  John Goodman has established himself as the outgoing personality that is there for comedy relief.  It is a good thing because I could see a few people were sweating that they might have to step into this role, and I don’t think they were entirely ready to take on that responsibility.  Mr. Goodman is a seasoned veteran, I can tell.  When asked if he exercised he wittily responded with, “Yes, I do 12 ounce curls, and inhalation calisthenics”. 

Rip Taylor says he isn’t there to judge us or deem us alcoholics, but he could have fooled me with his ever growing condescending remarks to the group.  He made you feel like a 3 yr. old caught in a lie.  For instance,

Me: “This is my 2^nd offense, and I consider myself to be a moderate drinker.”

Rip: “Hmmm and what do you consider ‘moderate’ as you put it?”

Me: “Well, I very rarely drink during the week, and when I drink on certain weekends it is only 6 or 7 beers.”

Rip: “Ohhh and that is every weekend, 52 weekends of the year?”

Me: “Yeah pretty much.”

Rip: “Ooookay I guuuuesss that’s ‘moderate’”

Well, Rip is now officially an asshole in my book.  Nice pants by the way.  I especially like the way how you made them a 1 piece suit so you don’t have to wear a shirt, very efficient.  Last time I saw pants hiked that high was in the 5^th grade when Danny Dougherty gave Dave Bump (Bumpahhhhh) a super atomic wedgie. 

Later on that night I attend my first AA meeting ever.  Everything up until this point was a vacation, and now things just got real.  Usually I’d blow these off as cliché sob stories, but I promised myself I'd take as much out of this experience as possible.

 

This girl got up and talked about her history with alcohol, and actually did come off as "Well, I've heard this one before. However, what struck me was her deep sincerity as evidenced by her obvious nervousness in just trying to spit out what she had been through (although the visible shaking I saw could have been withdrawals, I’m officially going to hell). 

 

In all seriousness, it was a little scary because I can tell she is going to relapse again, and it actually spurred…what are those things called? Oh yeah, feelings and empathy.  I hope my observations of 10-15 minute of her life are wrong. 

 

Shortly after this we are assigned chores.  Mine sucks because I have to vacuum, huge pun intended there (RIMSHOT! thank you, thank you, we have a great show tonight, barf!).  I wonder how long it will take for me to make that joke here, time will only tell.

I found out an interesting tidbit about my roommate today, he raises and races pigeons. Let's pause to soak that one in. I can accept raising pigeons, albeit a little out of the ordinary, but racing them is an entirely different animal.

 

Now,  I deserve a medal of honor for several reasons.  One, I did not bust out laughing in his face, and two I did not feign interest.  Apparently this is a popular hobby according to him.  Well, any hobby that interests the likes of Mike Tyson must be one for normal people so now I can sleep even easier at night (cough…cough…ehem).