Drinking in public bathroom stalls
Whenever I think I might be “overreacting” on this sobriety gig, I remember all the bathroom stalls I took drinks in.
You know, when you have to go places but drinking isn’t convenient?
Daughter’s Volleyball practices: grown woman in a girl’s bathroom at a school downing miller lites from my tote bag.
Family trip to deadwood, South Dakota: bathroom stall of train station drinking jack Daniels from a fifth quickly bought at a liquor store since the touristy bar beer didn’t prop me up enough
Hospital in home town: one of many trips to visit my father in the hospital after he had a stent placed; prepared this time with a bottle of Jack in my purse, drinking in a hospital bathroom down the hall.
At the movies with my kids: right before the movie, movie bathroom stall, swigging jack from my purse.
what a romantic notion, drinking in the bathroom, folks.
and all the other times I had to drink stealthily: in coffee thermoses, water bottles, cans of coke filled with whisky in the car, drinking all day in the backseat on road trips, drinking at sports games, arriving at family functions half tossed, going to any lunch or dinner already in the bag. Just an incessant need.
the fix, the fix, the fix: had to get the fix, at all costs. For me the costs weren’t as life altering as some, but that compulsion was real.
that’s the stuff, Sassy. That’s what it is.