“He’s just really starting to gross me out” I tell my friend Andrea as we walk into the empty afternoon movie theater.
“Why is he telling you this stuff?” she asks, looking like she just ate a handful of booger flavored jellybelly’s.
“These people have no boundaries…which is really saying something if I think you have no boundaries” I tell her as she nods.
Like most things in life, sponsorship in AA was a double edged sword. Sure, I now had someone I could tell my deepest darkest secrets to (besides the internet), and my parents didn’t have to pay a stranger $200 an hour to listen to me whine. Unfortunately, I now had to listen to a 37 year old man tell me some of the most revolting stories I had ever heard. Here are just a few of the gem’s from TC:
1. He keeps taking me to Rite Aid with him so he can buy Abrevia. Whatever, most people have mouth herpes, but he then tells me how he got what looks like the most vicious strain I’ve ever seen. Something about continuing to suck his boyfriend’s dick even though there was a giant infected sore on it – Idk it was hard to hear everything over the sound of my own gagging.
2. He insists on telling me about wanting to bang this old man at the meeting he forces me to go to on Mondays in Squirrel Hill. Which again, whatever, we all have to find ways to support our lavish spending, but it turns out it has nothing to do with money. “So, why then?” I make the mistake of asking. “I just like the size of his fingernails”. We all know what TC was planning on doing with said fingers.
3. TC gets a new boyfriend and stops wearing deodorant because the smell is ‘appreciated’. Maybe by that freak but not by the rest of us.
4. This one was the final straw: He calls me one evening to “check in on me”, but I can tell by the childlike excitement in his voice that he really just wants to tell me something. After we cover how my steps are going (they aren’t because I have more important things to do like throw old fruit out of my 26th floor windows and browse Wikipedia), he tells me in a hushed tone that his new boyfriend finally FISTED him last night. Like everything related to AA, you really couldn’t make this shit up if you tried. At this point I should have referred him to a licensed Psychologist, and maybe a Proctologist because who knows what kind of damage he was doing back there, but instead I laughed until he hung up on me.
I end up calling him a couple of weeks later (high on cough medicine) and tell him that I will no longer be attending AA but that I appreciated all of his ‘help’. This was surprisingly adult of me. As usual, I can’t help myself though, and throw in that I am going to pursue my lifelong dream of being a hip-hop dancer. I do this mostly because I like the thought of him crying to his sponsor that I was choosing hip-hop over him. He gets all butt hurt (hah) and doesn’t talk to me for a couple of months – standard AA behavior.
Andrea also eventually saw the light and stopped going to AA and talking to her sponsor. “They want me to get caught up in their drama, and its just not interesting to me” she told me. Her sponsor had also gotten openly hostile when Andrea secured a job back in the medical profession after not drinking for six months. Her sponsor hadn’t drank in three years but was still unemployed (at least she had time for all of her meeting!).
I’m happy to say that Andrea is still sober , and as always I am soberish. I’m also happy it took her a much shorter period of time to realize that AA doesn’t work for most people, and that if you look at evidence based studies, most people, when they are actually tired of drinking, stay sober without it.
I don’t pretend to pray anymore, something every ‘good’ sponsor will suggest. But sometimes I will say to Andrea “I prayed for my sponsor’s butthole last night” and we will laugh and laugh.