A fat, ugly, wise in a crass way guy, a schizophrenic, and an anxious not gay gay guy.

So I found myself at one in the morning sitting in a quite comfortable gaming chair staring at three friends as I spoke about my life story, my worries, and what had brought me to that moment.

There are many such nights in AA, in the group with the yellow wall and the blue chairs, late at night when only the craziest of us addicts remain and the deeply hidden lies and thinly covered veils come out, also the guy that works there who is considered one of us although not an alcoholic.

We are part of a select group in which to partake and to gain access one has to buy a very special ticket. “Partirse su puta madre” as The Godfather let’s call him Oyster said.

There was Oyster an old very very fat man, also incredibly ugly but one who is sure to make you laugh in his no nonsense no filter manner. He is the leader in those late groups because however crass he is a man filled with wisdom from such a long life.

Then there is another pal who is about forty, not bad looking with a full head of hair and a kind heart. He is a literal schizophrenic and began drinking to drown the voices away, his is a sad story one of someone constantly striving to move forward with good values but who constantly has to be inter in psych wards because of schizophrenic episodes, but it’s not all bad and he has a beautiful wife, and then my other friend a short lean fifty year old guy who looks thirty and is the least gay gay guy I’ve ever met, he is always anxious and reminds me of myself in my abstinence period.

So all four of us plus the other guy, alone, them smoking cigarettes, me not anymore talking about our particular peculiar predicament, that quaint strange disease of the soul in which when we tried alcohol, pussy or weed we couldn’t quite stop until we destroyed our lives.

So I sat there on the chair telling my life story, how I am frightened because I’m beginning a new work period and it is hard as good things aren’t easy but I like to find other things to blame to justify myself if I fail because I am too scared to act, blaming the past and the unjust situation that placed me in jail, when, I mean it will always affect, but it is in the past. Wrote a book about it. I have to let it go and not use it as an excuse for my fear.

The kind of digging deep you only get in AA when a fat ugly in a crass way guy, a schizophrenic and an anxious not gay gay guy talk late into the night about what was, what could be.

We are unique and irreplaceable Oyster said, God is inside you.

And about what other people say, he said: if I liked having a dick in my ass… is it your ass? Exactly, so if it isn’t your ass it’s none of your business.

I just laughed, but in a way he is right. What’s happened, happened and if the dick is in my ass it’s my business nobody else’s.

The not gay gay guy was quiet, probably dreaming about his days in the beach when he was always high and fucking and the schizophrenic repeated AA quotes and lessons telling me I was on a path to success, he then drove me home in a Mercedes and we listened to Eric Clapton.