My evening begins with Tinder. Ron right? r you free to hook up for coffee sometime? u seem like my kinda guy. 2 many weirdos on here tho so im gonna delete. Anyway u should text me at 123 456 7890 Spokeo is my friend. Pittsburgh burner, registered to a male. Multiple priors. At least you’re a fellow Pennsyltuckian. Yeah, too many weirdos. Tried to get taxes done tonight. Found out the 401k (early-withdrawal due to previous employer closing its...
For an “alcoholic”, there is only one problem– alcohol. At that first AA meeting, when I raised my hand and said, “I’m Quinn and I’m an alcoholic”, I bargained with myself that it was some sort of truth. Major regrettable events had transpired which, without alcohol, would have been mere forgettable incidents. I have problems associated with alcohol, like a racist has problems associated with race. So, I’m an alcoholic, right? No, I’m not– and I won’t call myself that again. I’ve...
Second night at AA. I didn’t talk much this time beyond the obligatory “I’m Quinn and I’m an alcoholic”, “Hi, Bill”, “Thank you, Bill.” I gave my number to a good looking guy, my age or (probably) younger. I am regretting this. It brings on the kind of anxiety I had when the ex-wife and I gave our number to a “friendly” waiter at Raj Mahal who turned out to be an Amway drone. That’s what AA reminds me of– a cult. Not in...
“My name is Quinn and I’m an … alcoholic.” Most of those present seemed to assume the pause before the term was because I was loathe to admit such a condition, but it was only that I wasn’t sure of the definition and did not want to misrepresent myself. I was able to explain this later, in a lengthy rant where I used the terms “modern drunkard” and “high-functioning sociopath” and essentially said “This is not going to work– for me.” Kinda brought...
Never knew what I wanted to do with my life. That’s why I’m here with, well, with her. When I first heard “La Grange”, I didn’t believe it was ZZ Top. I know them as “Legs” and “Sharp Dressed Man” and that kinda jerk-it video shit from the 80’s. But, it was. It was them. They’re good. Maybe they stole that riff from Muddy Waters or somesuch Blues master. I dunno– but it’s good, and I wanted to play it....
Fun encounter with the fairer sex this morning. Went outside my apartment to the Farmer’s Market that usually serves only to deprive me of parking on Friday night. Browsed a little, then to the java stand. The pretty twenty-something compliments my “Frozen” shirt with a giggle and asks what I’d like. “Well … I’ve been craving a BBC. A big–” [beat, anxiety on her face] “black …” [beat, eyes widen] “… coffee.” She laughs. Funny she knew the acronym– maybe she’s...
All around me are familiar faces– … worn out places … worn out faces. Bright and early for their daily races– … going nowhere … going nowhere. Their tears are filling up their glasses– … no expression. … no expression. Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow– … no tomorrow … no tomorrow. And I find it kind of funny; I find it kind of sad– that the dreams in which I’m dyin’ are the best I’ve ever had....
It’s been a while. How you doin’? It’s been a while longer since I wrote anything of general utility. Most of my spew has been of a peculiar flavor spawned of my bile. Give me a break, friends– the strongest urge to write is to pull in those who ken what you pen. It’s rare for anyone to truly know you. … I’m speaking to a likewise rare audience here. For the majority of humanity, their 12-piece “Age 2+” puzzle...
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