Weasel1966

A dive bar holds no mystery for me. Dimly lite rooms. Some with a film of smoke hanging in the air. Others with blasting music to disguise the surroundings as something they were not.

I met a lot of bad good people nearly everywhere I went. The sum of the lot by any measure was less than. Myself included.

A friendly game of pool for a shot was the norm. I bought a lot of shots. I lost games I could have won so the disheveled newly befriended could drink on me. It somehow made the charity I was doing seems worthy.

My favorite dive bar was in a fishing town in a vacation spot. The mix of high end cruise ship passengers roaming the docks and Main Street stores blended starkly with the homeless and mediocre. Especially with the back drop of my second home. A place I went to even at 6:30 am to start the day.

There was nothing better than to sit on the stools by the front windows. Watch the good people of the world and they watching me with a shot glass, beer and pool stick in hand.

Better yet was when someone visiting would wander in. I was the kind to go and start up a conversation. I was always the white collar guy in the blue collar bar. So I never seemed threatening.

All the while I had a sinking feeling in my gut. A self imposed inferiority that drove me to strive for less. To drink meant power in a strange way. A brave new person emerged. And that worked for a long while. Until....

Until drinking became bigger than me. It swallowed me whole. I could make no good judgements. Then in an environment I found comfort I found trouble.

I saw it all as it happened helpless to stop it.

So how did I get here? SR and being sober? I moved states. I worked really hard at finding value in myself. I worked with a counselor. I did some meetings. I made some great friends here on SR.

But ultimately... I wanted it. The lame attempts of the past were without desire. But today I can say I reveal in my clear head and sober body. I am grateful, thankful, hopeful.... A welcome replacement for doubtful, miserable and sad.

I don't miss that dive bar but somehow I am grateful to it. Time to move on.

noexcuse

Wonderful post, Weasel. I've spent much too long living in the problem and not the solution, reading too many threads that are based on the problem and not the solution. It's essential for me in my recovery this time around to hear the wisdom from people like you.

SnwFlower

Thank you for sharing that Weasel1966, it is beautiful.

upandup

Brilliant post, Ken. You're stories are quite evocative - I can almost smell the smoke and see the mix of people in your fishing town. And I had to laugh with you - I was the white collar person in the dive bar too, I was drinking wine like a lady, dammit! :rotfxko

Nuudawn

Your words paint quite a picture Ken and at times I felt like there was a wistfulness to it..it was painted so well.
I have always thought people hid in dark bars..from the sunlight..and from the world. I suppose I didn't need a dark, cave-like bar to hide in...I hid in broad daylight.

Weasel1966

I often think of this place. So much time was spent there. I hear songs that bring me back to standing in front of the juke box. I think of those times with a bittersweet eye.

I am glad to be where I am at. I struggle a lot but things overall are on the upswing. I am quite happy with this direction. No dive bars in my future. Only my past.



K

mecanix

Helpless no more

m

Weasel1966

Hey M.... Amen to that!

trikyriky

I hung in many a dive bar , years back when I drank. I never really been a drinker . So dark , except for the brand signs and the light above the pool table. Actually it was my mom and one of her many boyfeinds who introduced me too that type of place , I'd have to go looking for her . They'd always give me quarters to play the jukebox or table bowling , and i would push for a cheeseburger. Then the fight would begin with my mom getting slapped around and little ole me sticking my head in there , I never got slapped but it usually ended there . Oh what memories

Weasel1966

Ricky... You paint a picture as well. Sad to hear what you wrote. I did not mean to trigger any sad thoughts for anyone.

Thanks for sharing that. I remember my first time in a bar. I was 5. It helps to say it.

K