• Travis Ryan

ANNA

Anna was the type of girl who really went after something if she wanted it, she wanted me.


I always believed that the physical attraction came from me being tall and coursing with Viking blood, but really, I think that it was more of the fact that she could see through the beard down to an overstressed baby face it concealed. I spent hours daily at treatment for my crippling addiction, fantasizing about this girl consuming every part of my body (just for the record, she used to eat lollipops in slow motion and stare at me). Only to get out and see that my friend Phillip was already romantically interested, at least in a physical, or more like sexual sense. We were all trying to “clear the cannons”, after 3 months of hardcore celibacy, it was time.


It was time to do what every man in recovery must do, reintroduce himself to the female species. This sounds like a simple enough endeavor, because a lot of people fuck everything with a pulse while in active addiction, but the prospect gets magnified in intensity within the recovery community by Everyone. Differing opinions including the fact that Bill(author) and Dr. Bob(author) of the AA big book had wives, Bill even had some side hoes, and even then “Recovery” is such an individualized process that there is no real right way to do it. Just don’t die, that’s the one really important rule, don’t die from an OD…


Anna wasn’t very interested in Phillip, she had her mind made up, that ‘twas Mein knob to beyeth slobbed upon! She even started sending me sexy videos almost immediately, which when jerking off and going to bed is one of the few basic coping skills keeping you sober, is a really nice thing to do.


*SIDE BAR*

The American male is not used to being pursued by females as often as the flip side, his “societal role” is laid out as male aggressor, alpha whatever, its all bullshit anyway, so to those females reading this like “Guys text and send me videos ALL of the time, I don’t get what the big deal is…?”


The response is, I’ve only been Actively pursued sexually 5 times in my life and ended up dating ALL 5. So, if you’re a human of the female variety, single, and eager but struggling to change that, the clear numbers would indicate you should put on your “man” pants and try the active approach, it really works. Plus, it saves soo much fucking time! An asset we don’t ever have enough of.


*END SIDEBAR


The sparks were flying, and it was pretty much decided after a “friendly” hike, that it was going down, but where? When both parties live in sober living houses? The answer came almost immediately, and simultaneously (a week later) she moved out of sober living. I started working at a hotel. Her room, plus free hotel rooms made for a cool my place/her place dynamic. We went back and forth like that for awhile like addicts, casually at first and then habitually. Soon enough I “needed” her and that scared the fuck out of me. I had to do something to fuck this up, and fast! I took the Nixon strategy. A number of weeks later (while on a bender) the opportunity would present itself like a lollipop eaten in slow motion. The Nixon reference is not me claiming I would be impeached. I guess the “Watergate” method would be more accurate of a statement. An alleged break-in happened by a series of unfortunate events, needless to say, it went down in classic Travis bender status fashion, instantly with skin blistering flames.


*SIDEBAR #2*

Writing on legal pads is making me feel more pretentious than I normally would, something about dismissably batting the sheet away from me on every page turn is what does it. War pigs playing in my mind.


Also, I just pulled out my first white nose hair, which either means I’m getting old as fuck prematurely, or I’m a spider in disguise. Ill leave the more likely option for the readers to decide if they see me as former or latter, or both. A crusty caged spider on a web of truth and lies, you decided.

*END SIDEBAR*


*drink at side-bar*


A mojito is in my mind right now, because of the refreshing nature that this girl brought to the table 10 toes down with whatever, whatever, want to here where I fucked up? Strap in. the cops get called to the unhappy apartment I’m sub-leasing from a dude 3 times my age, whom my parents had already started contacting and manipulating into “checking on”/harassing me, when he somehow finagles a wellness call or some sort of check to see if I’m alright. And end up going to the mental institution for a 72-hour hold, at the good ol’ Asheville general (where drunk=suicidal), trying to figure out if I was on a bender or trying to end it. She picked me up, after my ex decided to block my number, and fuck my “friend” in my house instead. Picks me up from the ward, rolls a blunt with me, sniffs a line with me, and fittingly drives to a cemetery where we hangout on a tombstone. *undertaker at me in my hospital gown, her in Gucci whatever, driving an Audi courtesy of her swiss parents. Blunt is as big as a normal cigar, I start crying as nicotine enters my system, a relief after 3 days, undertaker must assume I took some kind of furlough from the hospital to visit a dead fellow.


Anna: “you live too fast”

Me: “your Audi twin turbo is for what?” I respond shittily

Anna: “acceleration” …” seriously dude, you’re going to die drinking like that”

Me: “something’s got to kill me”

Anna: “then why cry pussy?”

Me: “for happiness and relief to see my killer’s face again”

Anna: “prima donna”

Me:” Spoilsport” ...” what have you been up to?”

Anna: “back in the game, selling coke and Xanax”

Me: “classy move….why?” I take a long drag

Anna: “nice dress, anyway its good money”


*insert thought bubble/ exploding lightbulb*


This is where my idea took root, just a tiny, rootless, chump seed then, that would grow to a drunken little shop of horrors Seymour “Feed me…”. This girl has no idea what she just got involved with. As soon as she said “good money” I began the transformation from Dr. Jekyll to a more Hyde like incantation instantly. Anyway, I’m still activated, mid-bender. No one was personally injured, but peace of mind was damaged irreparably in the events that followed that day. Not claiming guilt or innocence, truly no contest, but she should’ve, done 2 things:


1)stayed out of the fucking drug game

2) ignored my call that morning


Now I can’t wait to call/pay her back in some way that would help the situation.

Maybe I’m still wild eyed, Mr. Hyde in a hospital gown. Maybe we all are… Who knows?



“criminally insane” “maniacal binge drinker” “repentant story teller”


Travis Muffhuggin Ryan

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