Me, in his office: defensive, insecure. Him behind his desk: Disapproving, judgmental.
“You’ll quit drinking,” he says. Not a suggestion, not a request. A declaration. An intervention.
“I’m only here for my meds, my antidepressants.” Medication management, no prescription without a discussion.
Power of suggestion? Voodoo? A good read of character? Yes, he was right. Thirty months: Dry. Sober. Abstained.
Me (once, not so long ago): “I can’t trust people who don’t drink. Coffee in the morning, cocktails at night. The natural order of things. Non-drinkers have something to hide.”
At Dinner.
Susan: “Newcastle Brown Ale.” To me: “Is this OK? Does my beer bum you out?”
Me: “Club soda with lime.” My response: “Why should my problem spoil your meal?”
After dinner, I’m the one who’s driving. This still surprises me. I have nothing to hide.
~ ~ ~
Outtake –
Alcohol: The lubricant of my relationships. Reduces the friction of forced communication. Unsticks the cogs for flowing conversation. Untoxicated, oxidated. The machinery grinds to a halt.
The Other Stuff 
I like this – pause for thought.
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This is very different in style from your previous posts. It’s a risk to do something different, no matter which art form you are using. My risks sometimes turn out well, sometimes not. But I think it’s healthy to expand one’s artistic universe.
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Ah and you never say if it turns out well. No matter, I find it freeing to try small poetic pieces like this sometimes. It actually started as a poem but I became self conscious.
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I don’t know how to judge it. I was reminded of artists like Picasso and Braque who painted objects from multiple perspectives within one canvas. For me, the essay succeeds in being like a Cubist painting — a style of art that I very much like.
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Thank you Brian
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I liked this a lot. I can definitely relate to finding social occasions much easier with a drink, so I try to space it out. Good on you for keeping going.
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Well if my success on ‘keeping going’ is measurable by the number of times each month I do anything social, I’m a miserable failure. After a while the high of simply succeeding at ‘not drinking’ wears off and I need to write stuff like this to remind myself of the point.
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I like it. Sometimes feeling self conscious is just a sign that you’re stretching out of your comfort zone, which can be incredibly stimulating.
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The further I get from this post, the more I like it. I’ve been actively trying to show rather than tell, and this piece does a lot of that. I also like the little poetry bit at the end. I originally envisioned a whole story like this, but I settled on dialogue instead. Thanks for your comment.
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I like It
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Thank you
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