Bubba had had just about enough of going to Twelve Step meetings. All of this don't use, go to meetings, and ask for help crap was really pissing him off. Everything was making him angry and all he wanted to do was hit someone.
"One drink won't kill me," he said to himself, and he headed for the nearest bar.
Once he got into the establishment, he saw Willy, an old sponsor of his who had gone out again, sitting at the bar, hunched over a drink. Bubba walked over, grabbed the guy's drink, gulped it down, and said, "So, what are you gonna do about it?"
"Come on, man," said Willy. "I'm a complete failure. I stopped going to meetings and got back into drinking. My wife left me and took the kids. Then I was late to a meeting with my boss, and he fired me. When I went to the parking lot, I found my car had been stolen and I don't have any insurance. I left my wallet in the cab I took home, I opened the door, a burglar hit me on my head, stole my computer and TV, and when I woke up my dog bit me. So . . . I came to this bar to work up the courage to put an end to it all. So I buy a drink, drop a cyanide capsule in it, and sit here watching the poison dissolve, then you show up and drink the whole damn thing! But, enough about me, how are you doing?"
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