Page 10 of Sharkbait
I really should stop calling her Cold Brew. Even in my head.
My buddy Kathleen gives me an encouraging nod from the learning chair at the center of the semi-circle. That’s the name for the seat the meeting leader takes. She’s absolutely killing it this month, supporting the hell out of everyone, which is a surprise to absolutely no one. Everyone knows Kathleen is the best.
“Sorry if I smell like seaweed, friends.” I chuckle. The leathery-skinned, hairy new guy to my right leans in for a quick sniff, purses his lips, then gives me a thumbs-up. Not sure if that means Idon’tsmell like seaweed or that Ido,and he doesn’t mind. Either way, he seems like a nice guy. I look forward to hearing his story at some point when he’s ready to share.
I continue, “So uh. Quick update. A decision has been made.I’m officially making the move to the Big Island to be with my girl.”
“Hey!” Kathleen claps. “Good for you, boyo. We’ll miss you of course, but good for you!”
“Thank you. But you’re not getting rid of me completely. I’ll be back every month or so, checking in on the businesses, popping into these meetings. I figure someone has to keep tabs on you, lady.”
She smiles. “When do you leave?”
“After the holidays. The plan is to start the new year fresh.”
“So you have a few months. That’s good.” Kathleen nods in acceptance. I may be imagining it, but are her eyes getting a bit misty?
I shake my head when I consider how much Kathleen has overcome. Back in the nineties, she somehow managed to leave her “good for nothing husband” in Dublin, moved to the States with hersevenchildren, and raised them here all on her own. All this while getting and staying sober. She’s in her sixties now, and the kids are grown, so she spends her days radiating her no-nonsense mom energy to anyone who needs it and running meetings like these. She’s been a real gift in my life.
I continue, “So. The past few meetings I’ve been hemming and hawing about my family drama, but now that the move has been decided, I’m hoping you’ll indulge me today as I get a little more… personal.”
Kathleen lets out a good-natured chortle. “Personal? Boyo, last week I stood here and told you all how I showed up to a PTA meeting in the late nineties with no pants on.” That gets a laugh from the room. “In this group, we’re all about the personal.”
I laugh too. “True. That’s true.”
“We’re here to listen, Jamesy. You can’t shock or embarrass us. Trust me.”
Leathery new guy gives an affirmative grunt and slaps me on the shoulder.
“Thanks. Alright. Here goes then.” I take a deep breath and let it all out. “Two months ago, the woman of my dreams walked into my bar, gave me fuck-me eyes all night, then dragged me into the walk-in refrigerator and proceeded to rock my worldagainst some cold-ass beer kegs. Now I keep seeing her around town, I can’t say a damn thing to her, and I feel like a total and utter chump.”
Kathleen gasps. “Holy shit, boyo. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Me neither,” I say. “Believe me.”
“You think you can just waltz into this meeting and spew your carnal filth all over the place?” she scolds.
“I’m sorry! I thought this was a safe place to—”
She cackles. “Course it is! Just yankin’ yer chain, baby. Spill it. All yer filthy details are welcome here.”
When I look around the semi-circle, I see a whole bunch of wide eyes and goofy smiles. Things can get real serious in this room. We hear so many tales of how alcohol brought people to their knees and how they’ve fought tooth and nail to get their lives back on track. Seems like me sharing salacious details from that night in the bar would provide some much-needed entertainment today.
Too bad I’m about to disappoint everyone.
“I’m sorry to say, that’s as detailed as I’m going to get about the incident itself.”
“Theincident?” Kathleen scoffs. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days? In my day, we called them one-nighters. Booty calls. Road gigs. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’ams.”
“Alright, alright.” I hold up a hand.
“I could go on.” Her eyes twinkle.
“I know you could. I’m just desperately trying to keep things classy right now.”
She snorts. “Hard to keep it classy when you start your story with ‘fuck-me eyes’ and ‘rocked my world against some cold-ass beer kegs.’”
“An excellent point. Regardless, out of respect for my... ‘wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am’ partner, I’m going to refrain from sharing further details. What I need is some guidance on how to get her out of my system.”
