Chapter 2: Resident
First full day in professionals’ rehab...
...Small group ended, as it apparently always did, with a
group embrace and the Serenity Prayer. I was huddled up tight
with my new siblings, complete strangers to whom I would
eventually be forced to bare my soul, reciting the prayer loudly
and emphatically. As far as I was concerned, there was a lot I could change
and very little I couldn’t; therefore, in my mind, serenity was
not nearly as important as courage. Courage to get through
this all at the top of my class, with no demerits, and move on
to restore my life to the way it used to be, the way it needed to
be once more.
This was going to be a few months unlike anything I had
ever experienced before, that was for damn sure. The session
ended, the door opened, and we broke for lunch.
12:00: Lunch
I walked across the quad to the cafeteria, books and binder
under my arm, with Eddie, RJ, and some of the other guys.
Eddie, who happened to be in my small group, and I sparked
up a conversation about running, races we had participated in,
and our exercise plans while “guests“ at the center. There was
an agreement with a local YMCA to let campus residents who
were off detox status and in good standing use the facilities.
Naturally, we were not allowed to go alone, so we utilized
the buddy system during free time (before eight thirty in the
morning or after five o’clock at night) on alternating days with
the women. I really didn’t see the early morning workouts as a
problem, since back home, Tiberius and I went on daily early
runs in the early morning darkness (even during my heaviest drinking days). Eddie, RoboKarl, and a few others were as
methodical about their fitness routines as I was. Since I was
going to be stuck to a lecture hall chair all day, every day, I
decided I may as well start the day getting some excess energy
out on a gym treadmill.
The male professionals generally took up the same two
lunch tables each day in the dining hall. I sat quietly that first
full afternoon and watched, amused, as another one of my peers, Monte the optometrist, consumed two burgers, three
milks, and several pieces of pie while continuously spewing
forth crude and offensive jokes. Monte was a big man with a
buzz cut and a face with huge features; he was large in personality and the life of the party. He enjoyed loudly farting while
exclaiming who in the cafeteria he’d like to have sex with, how,
and where. Thus, he became known among the peers as Dirty
Monte. Like many groups, we had ourselves a mascot....
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