So I woke up bright and early on Sunday, having fallen asleep by midnight Saturday night, alone and lonely in my bed by the sea.
I watched some early Sunday morning TV (infomercials, History Channel "All Nazi Germany - All The Time" rehashes of WWII, stuff like that), then decided to pull myself together for our final morning together as a group. There was to be a big group breakfast in the ballroom, from 9:00 until 10:00, a farewell address by a visitor from Texas from 10:00 til 11:00 and then a special meeting of the organizing committee to elect officers for NEXT year's event.
I had only registered for two nights stay and thought it odd, as I walked down the hall, to see "express checkout bills" tucked under a number of other guest rooms. But I just thought they'd neglected me and didn't worry about it.
I found another likely bunch to breakfast with, all sitting together at a table "down in front at ringside". They waved me over with much enthusiasm, and who was I to refuse?? I sat next to the cutest guy at the table, a dark-haired, blue-eyed beauty named "Bob." We started flirting immediately. We flirted all through breakfast. Something started to ring slightly odd with Bob, though, and with all the other guests at that particular table. Eventually, just before the guest speaker started at 10:00, it sort of came out that Bob, and the others, were all residents of a halfway house down at the beach. DAMN! Where were the oceanside halfway houses when I was trying get sober???!!!
Anyway, there went Bob. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. There are certain "rules" in our fairly organizationless 12-Step programs, one of which is "no dating in the first year of sobriety." Bob, unfortunately, still hadn't even officially started his first year. It would be some time before Bob was "on the market" for real.
The speaker kicked ass, though. She was Tex-Mex from San Antonio. She had a rip-roaring story of drinking and drugging, a fairly horrific bottom and then a marvelous recovery full of miracles and gratitude. She'd even "discovered" she was gay in sobriety, had found herself a girlfriend who lives in Tampa/St. Pete and, at the end of this school year (she teaches), is moving to Florida so they can pursue their dreams together.
It was inspiring. It was magical. It's looking pretty doubtful that that kind of miracle is in MY foreseeable future!
After the meeting broke up I realized that something was amiss as I saw people heading out to leave the premises, so I wandered down to the front desk where the nice lady behind it explained that, despite any misapprehension I might have to the contrary, I was not leaving until the next day.
Well, nobody tells THIS alcoholic when he's leaving and when he's not. I informed her that there must be a glitch in the system and yes I was leaving. She disappeared into the back to "speak with the manager." She reappeared in less than a minute and I was all checked out. I went back upstairs to get my luggage. As I passed the ballroom, one last time, I saw a pair of lovely eyes staring at me. So I stared right back and wandered right over.
We said "hi." We yakked aimlessly for a minute or two. We kissed gently. He gave me his phone number and whispered, "you always have a place to stay when you come down", for he is a full-time resident of Rehoboth, and we parted.
OKAY! THIS IS A START!!!
I'm not going to rush into anything. I'm not going to "force" anything. I will call him, this weekend, it having been two weeks since we saw each other. And we shall see what we shall see.
And now you know why I didn't rush into publishing this. I wanted to make sure I wasn't making most of it up, by allowing the memories to calm down in my mind.
I'll keep you posted...
