California dreamy

Oh my. I need to confess so many things.

First, I was born in California and for the longest time, I enjoyed it. Warm winters, beautiful summers and the most beautiful people in the world. It's true. I just spent over 24 hours walking around different parts of Orange County and I could not believe how beautiful just about everyone was.

How does that happen? Is there something that makes people happy and beautiful? Is there some sort of coastal secret potion? Even the obese look healthy. How can that be? Seriously, how can you do that?

Now, because I have a tendency to meet interesting people, I have a story. First, I went to dinner with two friends from high school last night. One thing I never quite got a grip on, apparently, and there is very little proof to this, but I am an asshole. Strange, cause I always thought I was kind of nice. Anyway, it seems like whenever I hang with people I knew a long time ago, at some point during the conversation, someone will say, "oh, he has always been an asshole." Imagine the damage that does to someones self esteem, when pretty much all your old friends seem happy to confess to this long held secret.

Anyway, it was wonderful to visit friends. Tanned, healthy, pot smoking friends. Really, when it gets down to the basics, who could ask for more? Well, how about throwing some of Richard Nixons favorite Mexican food on the table? That's tight, we ate in San Clemente, near the Western White House, the home Nixon used to brood in, cry in and plot to kill innocent people in. There we were, old friends, 30+ years of friendship and we are the food Nixon loved. Wild times, seriously, wild times.

So, I was sitting in the lobby of my hotel yesterday, just enjoying some lemon flavored water that is available in the lobby. I was enjoying watching people come in, check in, walk around and enjoy the beauty. This was one of those upscale hotels with all sorts of adult type of nice things, like couches in the lobby, and even a wicker couch outside, so you could rest after you pull up to check in. Thoughtful.

I am sitting there, minding my own business and out of this conference room a young man on a cell phone appears, walks over to the section of chairs I was cloistered in and sat down and continued his conversation. Now, I don't know about you, but my sense is that if you talk on your cell phone loud enough in public, you are welcoming strangers in on your conversation.

So, he sits down and continues to talk about how he has been drinking a lot over the last few weeks, and his roommates are mad at him because he puked on the couch, and he might get fired because he shows up all hung over and stuff. There was about 7 minutes of him talking, listening for a second, and then responding by saying something brilliant like, "I might have picked the fight, but dude, I was drunk as shit and can't remember fuck."

I know, poetry.

Anyway, at some point I realized I was almost out of water, but I began to nurse it, because honestly I did not want to miss a word of this mess. Then, and again, thank the good lord sweet jesus for my ability to attract people and make them feel like they should share with me, he hangs up, notices me sipping my lemon flavored water and says, "sup?"

I engaged him in a slight conversation, asking how he was, and soon enough he was off to the races. He was born in Fresno, started drinking at 14, smoking pot around the same time, and has continued, pretty much unabated for the last 10 years or so. I was listening, he had things he needed to say. The key thing you need to understand was that every story he had to tell me about his life, and there were many, all involved the use of drugs and alcohol. All of his problems involved scenes that got out of control because of drugs and alcohol.

Now, I am a big lover of drugs and alcohol. I don't do drugs or alcohol, but I support peoples right to do whatever they want to their bodies. That said, when Fresno drunky finally took a breath deep enough for me to begin to speak, I asked him why he did not do something about his alcoholism. I think he was taken aback, because he blankly stared at me for a few seconds and then said, "why do you think I am an alcoholic?"

Yeah, I almost laughed too. So I fed it all back to him, drinking as a young teen, continued to drink and drug, life is a mess, roommates not talking to him, job precarious, all sorts of other stupid things happening, all because he gets drunk or high or something else. Plus, and I pointed this out too, he had walked out of a business conference to continue his conversation and now he was chatting with me, so how professional could he be if he blows off business to talk to a complete stranger about his addictions.

We did not spend a great deal of time. He is basically what I said to him. "I don't know you, I don't even know your name, but I will call you Justin. Here is what I know about you, when you describe your life, it all revolves around drugs and alcohol and almost all of it is negative. Your life is out of control, you are in the process of bottoming out and as a complete stranger who honestly could care less, I am here to tell you that at some point you will either die from these addictions or find is necessary to get clean. Now might not be the time, but you will continue to poop on your couch (he corrected me by telling me it was puke, but I told him when I replayed this story I would say he pooped because it was more dramatic) and your life sucks. Your roommates do not even talk to you, how fucked up is that? My advice, and again, I don't know you, you are not my friend Justin, and I only tell you this from what I know about you, you need to clean up and get help."

The strange thing? He just kind of looked blankly at me for a few seconds, and then his phone rang and he was right back into his personal drama. I stood up and got more lemon flavored water, got in the elevator, went to my beautiful room overlooking the water and watched the big flat screen TV.