she’s been going to AA meetings every night. Apparently, she has a different alter ego for every meeting she goes to, which is keeping her spirits up. When I complain about how she’s never around, she says I should come to a meeting with her. HA!
And you, dear Everett, are busy with Nadia and whatever goes on at the OM house (which I can’t even make fun of anymore since all the inhabitants pulled together to help me make bail!). I understand that you have moved on, and I am happy for you, but more than I’d like to admit, I miss the days when you were constantly available to watch movies and eat vegan junk food with me.
I’ve given up on thinking Texas will ever call. But I have an idea for how I could see him one more time—I’m going to insist we hire FAIL BETTER! to play the grand opening of the Puppy Adoption Center. If nothing jumps off from that, I’ll swear off him forever. I’m going to make Annie do all the arrangements, though, so it doesn’t seem like it was my idea.
Matchmaking (for myself),
Roxy
November 6, 2012
Dear Everett,
Last night was bizarre and ultimately deeply disheartening.
So here goes: Artemis has been bugging me and bugging me to go to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting with her. “I like to drink, but I don’t think it’s come to that,” I said.
“No, I just want you to come so you can see what I’m up to. That way when I tell you about it, you can picture it, right?”
“I’ve seen AA meetings in about a million movies,” I said.
Artemis rolled her eyes. “Movies. Phff! How about we live real life? The stories are incredible. Heart wrenching. Hilarious. Last night a guy with fifteen years sober said back in his drinking days he woke up one time in a morgue—with a tag on his toe! People laughed so hard they cried.”
“I guess you had to be there?” I said.
“Exactly. Please come with me. Puh-lease?”
Just then my phone dinged. It was Captain Tweaker, who was sending me photos of the new dental implants my dad put in. It was crazy how different he looked with his rotten meth teeth replaced with pearly whites. I showed the photo to Artemis.
“That guy goes to my favorite meeting!” she yelled.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“He does. Text him. Tell him.”
I texted Captain Tweaker, asking him if he goes to the 6 p.m. meeting at Our Lady of Sorrows off South Congress. He texted back that he goes every Monday through Friday!
“That is crazy synchronicity,” Artemis said. “You have to come.”
“It’s not synchronicity. It’s just a central Austin special. This town is a hotbed of run-ins and coincidence.”
“It’s not coincidence! It’s a sign from a Higher Power.”
“I can’t believe you are using your newfound spirituality to manipulate me, but fine,” I said. “I’ll go.”
Artemis cheered.
“But at the meeting, what do I say instead of ‘I’m an alcoholic’?”
“Just say, ‘I’m Roxy. I’m an Al-Anon.’ ”
“What’s that mean exactly?”
“To alcoholics it means you’re a worried, neurotic lame-o.”
“Thanks!”
“No. Seriously, it just means you are friends or family of an alcoholic. Which you are!”
“Okay, fine,” I said, just to get her to stop bugging me.
“Be sure and dress cute. There’s alcoholic man candy galore.”
So I dug around in my closet and for once found a sundress that isn’t the flowered one I usually wear. This one is a maxi dress with a low back that’s sexy in an I-just-threw-this-on-and-am-not-really-trying way. I should do a deep dive in my closet more often. Goddess only knows what other forgotten treasures it might hold.
Artemis drove. There was plenty of parking at Our Lady of Sorrows—we were walking distance to all the food trucks and fancy new South Congress restaurants, but didn’t have to circle around forever looking for a parking spot. Who knew being a drunk would come with such perks? We went down the stairs to the basement. Someone was making a bad pot of coffee. Artemis started kissing everyone on the cheek and giving hugs. There were tons of hot musician-looking guys standing around, and everyone had tattoos and was uber hip. I could totally see why Artemis likes it. She was right—I hadn’t been imagining it right. In my mind all the people were grim and sad, but really it was like all the cool people in town had found this secret haven together that happened to be in a church basement. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around