Have you ever had a Smalls slider? Yea, me either until today. It's a fast food place that serves up small burgers and seasoned fries. Shelby's friend Matt is a franchise owner of this chain and we got an invite for a free drive thru meal today, before they officially open the new Pensacola place tomorrow.
Smalls was hopping with invites like ourselves, and a young lady took our order standing by the drivers window. The food was great and they have places in Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, Missouri, South Carolina and Texas. In other words, the South.
I even drank a coke, can't remember the last time I did that, and the sliders had pickles, which I normally don't eat, but they were great.
Here's the double:
I'm adding Raspberries and Mango Chunks to my afternoon mocktails, so in addition to a straw, I add a spoon. Both are plastic, so to be somewhat environmentally friendly, I reuse them throughout the evening. Ok, I'll switch to metal spoons and straws, sheesh..
.Here's the liquids
My buddy Zinny the dog and I just pulled off another twofer walk. That's two blocks up, one over, two back and one block home. Next will be a twosquare, two up and two over. She's loving the new territory, and the exercise. So am I.
I'm on day eleven of my new sobriety, and both nurses have commented on how much better I look. I value their opinion.
Shelby's cooking a Swedish meatball meal up in the crockpot. See ya.
Well, I found me a good bank here in Pensacola. I contacted their corporate office last week from a form on their website, and a nice lady named Lola just called from the local branch, and I'll meet her tomorrow and setup my new account.
Then I'll call SS and have my benefit payment direct deposited into my new bank monthly, then Idaho and Tennessee banking will fade into the dust.
It's amazing how much I've integrated into Florida citizenry. Once I come up with the three or four hundred to license my truck, it will be complete.
I didn't see this coming, I was pretty positive that my demise would happen in that small Tennessee house on a dead-end street. I thought I would end up going the way of my three year older brother.
Dana died in a hospice after living in a locked down California nursing home, a few years back. I found out after the fact, by a letter sent from the State. I don't know if my sister was ever contacted.
What a sad way to die. I tried to rescue him from that nursing home when I lived in Idaho, but I had no support, and failed. Idaho failed shortly after that and I landed in Tennessee.
At least now, if I have a heart attack in the Cave, maybe the nurses will be over, and Amy the P/A will be visiting from the south. They can take turns doing CPR and mouth to mouth, and bring me back...
Ain't nothing like a house full of beautiful women. The nurses Chelsea and Jen are over, laughing and gossiping around the couch with Shelbs. I even ended up with an extra little dog for a walk around the block.
I carry a small green bag with a paper towel inside, tucked into my belt. I picked up three rounds of shit from those two on this latest walk. I think this is what my life has evolved to, I live in a Cave and I pickup fresh dog shit for disposal.
The girls made mocktails from a big bag of frozen berries, and I had a plate of them for dinner, out in the Cave.
I've been doing a lot of walking around our hood, and I see cool old houses, dead and thriving small businesses, and a few street people. One of my favorite groups is a few guys that sit on a front porch, listening to hip hop and smoking pot. I get a What's up old man? from them now.
It's an overcast cool day down here on the Gulf. I woke up in a weird mood and as I started my walk around the neighborhood, I settled into a badass one. If anybody had fucked with me I would have used every ounce of strength in my old body, to make them regret it.
I began thinking about all the people I've known who have bailed on me because of my addiction to alcohol, or just because I've sometimes been an asshole as a result.
I suppose I can't blame them, you get back what you put into this life, but sometimes love shines through and you are forgiven and supported. That's my case right now, I have Shelby and Riley, and his family, that's it.
I have more than a dozen grandkids who are grown and I have never met. I have family on my sisters side, including my sister, that I haven't seen in years. I have old friends who prefer lecturing to compassion, and now I want nothing to do with any of them.
I just want to get well now, back in shape, and fuck everything else.
When I die, burn me up, scatter my ashes in the desert, and pour a bottle of vodka on me.
I'm bailing now on lost friends and non caring family, deleting their contacts, and focusing on my state of being at this moment.
Shelbys got a girlfriend over, who's going through marital distress, and they're talking it out on the couch in the living room. I try to stay out of the house as much as I can at these moments, but a man needs to eat a little ice cream for lunch, and make himself a mocktail or two, so I slip in and out as peacefully as I can.
So I'm enjoying my Sunday in the Cave. Considering how my morning started, I'll take it.
Shelbs whipped up some link sausage and eggs this morning, been missing that. Here it is smack dab in the middle of what would have been a long four days, and she and Zinny are home!
Todd and a guy he hired named Jason are here, working on the A/C in my room. I think they're going to shut it down, which is fine with me.
Shelby was putting together a new deck chair in the living room and we all sat around talking about our favorite strip clubs. Todd was a bouncer at our local one, Shelby talked about a recent New Orleans visit to a swank club, and I shared one of my many stories, about a little club in Oregon made out of an old coffee shop.
Yea, you sat at the counter of a curved, you know, old style restaurant. Young beautiful college girls would sqwirm in from the right on their backs, along the counter, completely naked, right in your face. By the time they made it over to the other side, who knows what position they would be in, but they were covered in tips. And you couldn't touch them, or your butt was out on the street.
After the guys left, Shelbs and I made our own meals, and then had mocktails. Her alcohol intake has gone down a lot since I stopped nine days ago.
Her drink is the one in the tall glass, with a whole lot of healthy stuff, mines the shorter one, with seltzer water and my own mix of healthy liquids.
Cheers to MockTails!
I've been living a nice life, in a fine Florida beach town, with a kind beautiful roommate, without having a single dime in my pocket and no Debit card.
I don't need money in my hand right now. I haven't had enough to get my Florida vehicle reg, which means I don't drive my truck, which means I don't need gas.
I'm not drinking, which means I don't buy booze, and I don't go to the bar. My meager rent contribution, and buying most of the food, comes from my SS, and Shelby holds my debit card until I need it, which I have not.
I've been going through my old stuff and there are sentimental things I'm glad I still have, but thats pretty much it. I've found a couple household items that have contributed to the house, and I've got a box full of electronics that are totally worthless to me now.
So, there is nothing I need to buy, I'm enjoying sobriety, and my walks around the neighborhood are great, with and without the sweet little dog.
Shelby and I have also had some great adventures. I have all I need, and a great roommate, who needs cash?
Shelby's four day out of town trip, was canceled, so I've got her and Zinny here this weekend. That's great for me, it would have been a long, on the wagon, weekend otherwise.
We just did a big shop and should be good for a while, and I can get some great Zinny time in, without being her sole care giver. We've got the walk around the block down now, we both enjoy it, and it's time to stretch it out to two blocks soon.
The end of this Thursday evening marks seven days sober, so I can use this day when I start counting weeks. If I live long enough, maybe I can start counting years.
I would love to turn eighty, and be two years sober.
I see these little ant hills all over the neighborhood. The bigger one on the right has been here since we moved in, and it sits right at the entrance to our backyard.
It gets run over by vehicle tires all the time, but the tiny ants keep rebuilding it. Now there working on a new one to the left, as a backup anthill.
The photo here doesn't do them justice, because they're a flaming bright red. I suppose Florida hates them, but I like them. They remind me of a couple women I've known
.I have to say, as I contemplate my life in this current moment of time, which we all share in one common way or the other, is that I'm amazed at how well I feel.
Hell yea I got issues, I'm an old man bumping up against eighty, with brain damage and Parkinsons! Sometimes I walk funny, sometimes I get dizzy, sometimes I can't get my old ass out of the Ocean.
But I feel good walking around this neighborhood, holding my back and my head up straight, bare shirted, with an old hat protecting my head. I've taken a few Caribbean adventures in the last seven years, and I wish I looked then, how I look now.
And day six is winding down. Slelbs leaves for a four day jaunt tomorrow, and I'll have plenty of oppertunities to make myself better.
Page 7 of 12