I wrote this in April 2008, just after reading Hunger. I think it shows.
An image, from an early part of my life. Stopped me as I was shaving. Towelled myself off, didn't want to finish up anymore. Anyway the AA meeting is gonna, like, start right now. You don't want to be too late to these things, they think you're not being sincere. Phone rang too, right when I was about to leave. Tina, as usual being her crowdy self. I don't think I like her since she gave her second husband the shove. Today she wanted me to get back early from work so we could both go shopping. Reasonable, but the way she asked me so wasn't. Women. Always trying to get on top.
AA meeting? Didn't go so well. Got there late, partially shaven, badly dressed, collars turned this way and that. Looked drunk too I suppose, and the smell didn't help. Goddamn truck has so much junk in it since last Tuesday and the smells are just everywhere. The woman in charge was like take a seat in her most annoying subwhatever voice and resumed with a stern `Now where were we?', just to make me feel a little extra worse. It's not even like as if I were that late. They'd just barely begun with the Indian guy, the one who sits all by himself in the corner. He was giving us his usual speech about how he hadn't `planned on drinking' but `my friends forced me to', and how `it all began there'. Bullshit. Seriously, these Indians look so dim it seems like no one can ever force them to do anything. They could just sit there all day with their grocery stores and their hunched postures and no one would even know they existed. I would tell Mr. Apu to get out more, first thing.
Finally! My turn. I told them everything, from getting laid off to getting laid. Heh. The squeamish could have stayed at home (or in their grocery stores too, come to think of it). When I was narrating I made sure I looked carefully at everyone in the audience, looked them in the eye. Ms. Uptight up there on the pulpit was also looking at me, I could tell, trying hard not to wince. Though I bet there was a part of her that liked it too. Oh, yeah, she'll be running to her third husband tonight and telling him the `horrible story about this disgusting man at the AA meeting.' And they'll both agree about how bad it was, how bad the world has become. How much better they are than everyone else, and praise the Lord Jesus for that. Yes, Mr and Mrs. Pulpit are gonna get it on tonight. And all thanks to me.
I must have taken at least a half-hour to finish, because she began to look at me as though it was my fault somehow. She's pretty hot, actually, if you ignore her nose. And her irritating voice, sounds like one of our Groundhogs at work on hard clay. Maybe that's an AA thing; be as imposing as possible without sounding like you're coming from a different planet. They'd have told her in boot camp to be firm but nice, something like that. And she, being the subwhatever she is, would have agreed immediately, probably said `Yes sir', too. I bet she has a psychology degree.
`Hey, my name is Gary,' I tell her, at the bruncheon after the speeches.
`Well, hello, Gary. Pleased to meet you.' Her name, as it turns out, is Becky. She told me other things too, like how she hoped the weekly meetings were helping, and how they were in it to help us. Or did she say `help you'?
`So what do you do, Becky?'
`I'm part of the staff at the university. I --,'
`Staff, huh? So you push pieces of paper around?'
Uncertain laugh from Rebecca. `You...could say that, yes. It's mostly --,'
`Do you like it better here? Listening in to other people's lives?'
`Well, actually, yes. It gives me an opportunity to... meet people.'
`So you can psychologically analyze them?'
`Well, kinda... It's more about -- '
I knew it! She had to be one of those shrink types. Who else would want a job like this anyway? It's like one of those schools for the retarded. It's like we're all not mentally, but -- socially retarded. Exactly! It's like being a social retard!
`-- and I've always loved teaching, so --'
`But aren't we all,' pause for effect, `socially retarded?'
`Um...excuse me,' she says. Turns around, begins to walk away.
I follow her. `Do you want to meet up maybe tomorrow? I know this coffee shop near my place.'
Later I meet Mr. Apu.
`Hi, I'm Gary. I don't believe we've met.'
`Oh, hello. I'm --'
There's a mole on his cheek the size of a quarter. Is it a mole? It's definitely soft, and seems to pulse. Like an eggplant. In boiling water.
`--beneficial too?'
`Oh, yes! I really like it here. The people are so nice. And... wanna know something?' I point my forefinger sideways, tick-tocking it.
`Yes?'
`I worked at a grocery store too! A couple of years ago. I learnt a lot there. There was this guy, my manager, his name was Earl? He had this huge thing for Karen, worked down by the Frozen Foods section? And Karen, you know, she's a nice girl, wouldn't respond to Earl, who was a bit of an asshole? And Earl would never give up, you know? One day he gave her flowers that he just snatched from someone's grocery cart. Never even paid for them himself, you know? Earl was always doing things like that.'
`I see,' Mr. Apu says. He seems pleased. I continue.
`Karen finally quit,' Apu's eyebrows are raised. `What, you're surprised? You don't know Earl. He was this ugly guy -- had a huge mole on his face, the size of a quarter. And quite obnoxious too. He would ask people really personal questions, like...like their weight, or their age, or whether they were gay. I know, I know -- you're thinking -- how did this guy become manager? Well, ' here I chuckle, `don't worry. I'm not making this up or anything. It's like this -- sometimes people are just dumb. That's what I've learnt. Especially grocery store managers. So anyway, Karen quit, and it was all downhill from there. Earl kept weirding people out with his interview questions, and we never could hire anyone else worth a damn. I quit too. It wasn't worth it, after that. I mean, you know how it is, right? How can you work at a place where you get no respect? You know?'
He's nodding his head knowingly.
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