LOOK WHAT I FOUND IN MY BATHROOM
I was vacationing in Miami, Florida. While I might be on vacation from the job or work, I never take a vacation from attending AA meetings. When I was new in the program, someone told me that if you are drunk everyday you should try to make a meeting every day. I have tried to follow this advice to the best of my ability. The only times I have missed a meeting was because I was either sick or the weather was too bad for me to make a meeting. And, on a few occasions, I was the only one in attendance, but I never purposely missed a meeting.
After settling in at a local hotel, I looked up in the local phonebook and copied down the address of the nearest AA meeting closest to my hotel. Up arriving at the location of the meeting, there was another newcomer at the meeting, and by just looking at him, I could tell he was beaten and physically—if not spiritually—down. It was obvious the “King Alcohol” had claimed another slave. I opinioned that he had come to the meeting because he had nothing better to do. Maybe he came for the free coffee and donuts that nearly every AA meeting offered. I really didn’t know why he came; I was just glad he was there because he had heard something before coming that motivated him to stop drinking.
Someone opened the meeting with the repeated oft-spoken and apt truism in the AA: “When you stop drinking and go to an AA meeting, your life will get better.” Little did this man know just how better things would become immediately after the meeting was over.
We warmly welcomed him to the meeting. We listened to his short introduction. And after he left, we all hoped that he would come back the next day. But I have to be honest with you, the reader. Not everyone who comes through the doors of an AA meeting will return. For those who don’t they are usually still in denial. They still believe that either things in their life haven’t become bad enough to stop drinking and find ways to keep from drinking or that they just plain don’t have a problem when it is obvious to everyone else that they do.
Surprisingly, he did return. Not only that, he was sober. He reported that after just the one meeting things in life improved dramatically. We were all—naturally—curious about his transformation, virtually overnight, and were eager to hear his story.
From his appearance, we figured that he was flat broke and probably lived in a local flophouse. He admitted as much when he told us his story.
“I went straight home after the meeting. Well, home isn’t what most of you might call it, but at least it had four walls and a lock on the door. Anyway, nature called, and it was in a big hurry. I hope it wasn’t the donuts.”
We politely laughed. We had all been there when our bodily functions rebelled against the abuse we are putting it through.
“I made a dash for the bathroom. Luck was with me, as it wasn’t occupied at the time. ‘Course, there weren’t anyone on the floor at the time anyway. Most likely they were out looking for some scratch to buy the next buzz. I won’t bore you with the relief, both from making it on time and getting it out of my system.
“So, I reached for a roll of toilet paper, only there was no toilet paper on the spindle. Oh, God, I began to curse. Some inconsiderate nincompoop went and used up all the toilet paper and didn’t bother replacing it. I looked around the toilet and spied this roll of toilet paper kind of hidden up against the pedestal. So, I grabbed it and tried to push it on the spindle. But it wouldn’t go in! I looked at the roll of toilet paper, thinking ‘What they hey!’ when this wad of money falls out of the middle of it.
“Was I shocked? Hell, yes! Scared, too. All kinds of things started going through my mind. ‘Hey, dummy!’ I said to myself. ‘you just stumbled on one of those drops where crooks leave money and drugs and the like for others to pick up. And when they come back, they are going to be looking for it. And then they are going to find you!’
“But then I remembered some guys telling me that it was not unusual for a drunk to hide his money in a toilet paper roll and such and then forget where they hid their ‘loot.’ I am hoping for the latter.
“Yesterday, you told me that ‘if you stop drinking and go to an AA meeting, things will get better.’ I didn’t believe you. But today, I am an instant believer in that message. I arrived home with no money, no prospect, and no chance of getting any buzz. Then, I find all this cash in a roll of toilet paper. What’s more, I didn’t use it to buy any buzz. I am a changed man!”
We clapped enthusiastically. The way I saw it was that God works in mysterious ways. Not only did our new friend find some money; he found a new life, thanks to Alcoholics Anonymous. He got a better life.
HE GAVE IT ALL AWAY AND GOT IT ALL BACK AGAIN
The next story is about a man who was very, very wealthy. He owned a very successful company. Out of respect, I won’t mention the State or the name of the company. Suffice to say that he had inherited the company from his father. But that didn’t mean he sat on his laurels. He was a very successful man himself. But unfortunately, he married the “wrong” person, and the marriage didn’t work out too well. They had a son, and one day both mother and son disappeared. Due to his drinking? I’m not sure. In any case, he came home from work one day, and the wife and son were gone. No note. Just a couple of missing suitcases with necessities. The wife also took a substantial amount of cash, which telegraphed that she was not coming back any time soon.
He started to drink, quite heavily. He got depressed. He reasoned that he had no reason to live any longer. And this was in the midst of a very successful career and business. Go figure. One day he called up the treasurer of the company and asked: “How much money do we have in the bank?”
The treasurer answered after several moments of computing online: “Nine million dollars.”
“Good. Empty it. Give it all away. Give the workers a bonus. Evenly. Until all the money is equally dispersed.”
“Sir?”the treasurer questioned.
“Oh, and give yourself a nice fat check, too.
“I’m selling the company. I want out. I want all the employees to think kindly of me when we hand out their pink slips. Got it? Or do I have to find me another treasurer?”
The treasurer knew he could not talk the owner out of giving away all his money and closing the business. But, he knew that there was something seriously wrong. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.
What the owner didn’t tell the treasurer was that he was going to drink himself to death. He gave all his money away, went to his apartment, and started to drink and use cocaine. He wanted to die a “happy” death, and maybe when whoever found his body, they would have pity over him and his miserable life.
Essentially, for anyone who thought about the owner, he had disappeared. No one heard from him. No one saw him. But then again no one really started looking for him either. Over a period of time, the treasurer was sure that something untoward had happened, and he tracked down the wife and shared his concerns.
His wife became quite concerned about him, despite the troubles and altercations between them. She arrived at his apartment with a friend, opened the door, and saw him lying on the floor near death. He had been drinking and drugging non-stop. By the grace of God, his wife and friend managed to get him to a hospital in time and later enrolled him in a treatment center.
“That was the stupidest day of my life,” he told us, “when I gave everything I had away. To this day, I still do not understand why I did it. But I have to be honest with you: I didn’t like being poor. Even though I might have been miserable, at least I was rich.
“So, I tried to figure a way how to get back to the top again.
“One day, I saw this garbage dump. What an eyesore! And the smell! You had to be there to truly appreciate just how bad it was. Surely there had to be some better use for this land. Then I noticed that there were two major arteries on either side of the dump. Highways that carried a great deal of traffic. I contacted a few of my friends, and we rented a helicopter to fly over the area and take pictures. I even arranged a survey to be taken of the garbage dump.
“I proposed to my friends that we should buy and reclaim the garbage dump from the government and then convert the land to commercial property. We would build an industrial park. It wasn’t long before major companies (IBM, Marriott Hotel, and others) contacted us and started building hotels and office complexes. The secret to the success of our venture lay in the fact that our land connected these two major arteries, where before crossovers were few and far apart. Property values skyrocketed. I was back in business.”
My friend got everything back and became a wealthy man again. It all got started because he tried to drink himself to death.
“And I owe it all to AA.”
I believe that there are people who are born to be successful, no matter what. This particular gentleman reinforced the impression that this maxim is true. Even though he had given away everything, he started doing things that made him a millionaire again.
And, maybe more importantly, Don’t Count a Drunk Out.
I can relate cases of many people. John was one who helped me when I was in the throes of my drinking. I got into a lot of trouble, landed in jail, etc. In fact, after going to jail and getting bailed out, John asked me to stay with him and his wife for a couple of days to kind of dry out and see if I couldn’t get my act together.
His wife was not sympathetic to my cause at all. “Throw the bum out. I don’t want him in my house,” she told him.
I slept on the porch, but I think I could have stayed clear across the town and still hear her screech. “Get rid of the bum! Get rid of that bum! He’s a bad influence on you.”
Sadly, what she said was true. You see, John had a drinking problem, too.
A couple of years went by. I still hadn’t found AA, and I was yet to get my life back in order. One day, John’s wife found me and told me some upsetting news: “Eddie, John is very sick, and he wants to see you.”
Well, of course I immediately dropped everything and went to go see him the very next morning. I liked John. I remember him as a very powerful man. We used to call him a corporate wrecker, took care of fights and all. But when I opened the door of the hospital room, you could have knocked me down with a feather. I was looking at a skeleton of a man. A skeleton of a man!
The only words that came out of my mouth was: “Gee.” I didn’t ask him what had happened to him: that was obvious.
Then John said these magical words—I’ll never forget them: “Plunkett, I’m going to die, and I don’t care.”
I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t understand. He had a great job, a beautiful wife, three children, a house in the suburbs, and a beautiful car. How could he hate his life? He had the American dream! But he took one drink too many, and lo and behold, King Alcohol had him in its control.
“I’m going to die, and I don’t care.”
It didn’t cross my mind that I had the exact same story. If it got that bad, I would stop, I kept lying to myself.
John was drinking himself to death. I saw the same thing happen to my mother. I don’t understand a lot of the insanity that goes with drinking. I just don’t understand it. And I am an alcoholic. I have this belief that if one takes one drink too many, that person cannot recognize right from wrong. I didn’t think that I could die from drinking. But then there was my mother who died from drinking at the tender age of 53. Towards the end of her life, I could see what alcohol was doing to her.
“Mom,” I would say to her,” you’re killing yourself with alcohol.
“Stop it!” she would snap back. “I want you to show respect.” So, I stopped bugging her and showed respect; she died from alcoholism. I sometimes wonder if she, like John, had a death wish.
But guess what? John was in a car crash, and it killed him. He wouldn’t stop drinking; only death stopped him.
I have lost other friends to the same thing. They were warned about taking that drink. They didn’t listen, and lo and behold, they died. Now, in my case, I was warned a thousand times from 1967 to 1970. I was told that I had to stop drinking; otherwise, I would lose everything: my wife, my children, my house, my cars, my jobs. Well, I did lose all that. I was confined to alcoholic sanitariums. I spent time in jail. I was sleeping in the park. I was sleeping in the snow, sleeping in the street. Always I would say, when it gets bad, I’ll stop. And, that’s the problem with alcoholics. They don’t expect bad. They just persist, persist, and persist. So, please, if you come across an alcoholic, bear in mind that to that poor person, their life is lost. Just think about this book.