The Drunk Meets His Sponsor

M, the recovering drunk, knocked on the door of his Sponsor, K.  The Sponsor cracked the door.  “Come in, pigeon.”  M edged through the doorway and set a canvas tote on the floor.  He sank to his knees next to the tote and bowed.  

“Properly greet your Sponsor,” K said.  Not looking up, M kissed the right shoe, then the left.  “Stand up,” K said.  “We’re here to work on your character defects.  Did you bring your tools?”

M picked up the tote and opened it for K to examine.  K carried the tote to the dining room table and removed the contents:  Four boxes of Legos.  An eight pack of toy golf balls.  Four tubes of lipstick.  A wide-rimmed porcelain soup plate.  A container of vanilla pudding. 

“Is the pudding homemade?” K asked.  M answered, “Yes, Sponsor.”

“Fantastic,” K said.  “Since you just picked up your 90-day chip, we’ll go to the Red Room.  Now go to the bathroom, undress and bring a towel from the top shelf in the closet.”  The Sponsor picked up the tote and walked to the Red Room.

M crawled to the bathroom, opened the closet and pulled down a towel.  It was plush, soft bamboo, smelling like lavender; a towel luxury hotels put in their bathrooms. 

He undressed, got on all fours and draped the towel over his right shoulder.  He crawled across the hall into the Red Room.  

Four red light bulbs in each upper corner dimly lit the room.  The Red Hot Chili Peppers played softly on a Google speaker.

A medical examination table furnished the north wall.  K had placed the tote on the table next to a roll of commercial-grade foodservice cling film.  

A small altar faced the window on the south wall.  Paddles, medical instruments and restraints hung from a pegboard on the east wall.  A Saint Andrews cross leaned on the west wall.  A speaker’s podium occupied the Red Room’s center.  The Sponsor was drinking a cup of coffee next to the altar.

K said, “Before we start, say your Third Step Prayer.”  M recited, “Release me from self.  Let me pray for other folks.  Your way is better.”

K spread the towel on the carpet on scattered the Legos across the towel.  The Sponsor sat down on a throne next to the altar.  “Pain is the building block of growth,” the Sponsor said.  “Crawl to Me and worship My shoes.”

M crawled across the plastic blocks; the corners, studs and angled edges digging into his palms and knees.  He reached K’s shoes and again kissed right, then left.

K got out of the throne and walked to the examination table.  “Crawl again, pigeon.”  M crawled across the Legos and remained kneeling.  “Stand up,” K said.

The Sponsor picked up the cling film.  “Hold the end,” K said.  M took the end of the roll and K said, “Spin.”  M twirled, tightening the plastic and becoming dizzy with each revolution until he was mummified. 

K lowered M onto the Legos, opened the package of golf balls and tossed them on the Legos.  K returned to the Sponsor’s throne.   “You said you’ll push a golf ball with your nose to stay sober,” K said.  “Start pushing.” 

M squirmed across the Legos, again feeling the plastic edges press through the cling film onto his body.  He struggled due to the limited range of motion and began to sweat from the heat created by the plastic encasement.   M nosed four golf bolls to the Sponsor’s feet and paused to catch his breath.

“You missed four,” K said.  M wriggled one hundred eighty degrees and located the balls.  He was breathing heavily and the sweat against the plastic created muted squeaks.  He slithered and writhed, finally nudging each ball to his Sponsor’s feet. 

K chose a pair of scissors from the pegboard and cut M loose.  “Get on your back,” K said.

M laid on the Legos, the sharp corners pressing into his back.  K got a length of red rope and secured M’s hands.  The Sponsor completed the hog-tying by tying the rope to M’s feet.  “The rope puts you in a position of complete submission,” K said.  “You’ve turned your will over to your Higher Power.”

K opened the lipsticks and examined the colors.  The Sponsor said, “Dark pink seems best to address your shortcomings.”  K began by writing “Humility is the Beginning of Sanctity” on M’s torso. 

The Sponsor wrote each of M’s character defects on his body.  “People Pleaser” on his abdomen.  “False Pride,” “Insincerity,” and “Immorality,” on his legs. 

K untied M and went to the kitchen.  The Sponsor returned with the soup bowl filled with M’s homemade pudding.  The Sponsor said, “Before we begin removing your shortcomings, say your Seventh Step Prayer.”

M recited stoically, “So that I may be of service, take all of me.  Good.  Bad.  Yours truly.”

K placed the bowl at the head of the Lego-covered towel.  “Do fifty push-ups into the pudding, saying one word of the prayer with each push-up.”

M said, “I can’t do fifty push-ups, Sponsor.”

K replied, “With that attitude you can’t.”  The Sponsor pulled a Cat-o’-Nine-Tails off the pegboard.  “I’ll give you some incentive.”  K lashed M with the flogger.  “Start.”

M assumed the push-up position and lowered his face into the pudding. The custard smooshed into his eyes and nostrils.  He pushed up, yelling, “So!”   K lashed him with the flogger and shouted, “Go to meetings!”  

M did another push-up and gasped, “That!”  K flogged him again and howled, “Call your Sponsor!”  Another pushup, M wheezing, “I!”  Another lash, the Sponsor bellowing, “Help others!”

With each push-up, pudding dripped from M’s nose and forehead as he gulped air.  Each lash sent him down in the custard and he came up wincing.  M completed thirty push-ups and rolled over, his chest heaving.

K examined M.  She gave him a roll of paper towels and said, “Clean yourself up and let’s go to the living room and have some couch time.”

M went to the bathroom, wiped the pudding off his face and lipstick from his body.  He got dressed, entered the living room, and sat down next to K.

“You’re making progress,” K began.  “However, you need to understand you can’t control people, places or things.”