People, there is great written comedy…and then there is the comedy of life. I appreciate both, but, to me, nothing beats life coming at you in real-time and just dropping you to your knees with the cosmic backhand of humor. Case in point: my probation group’s twice-monthly meetings with Dave at his office. These little get-togethers are Dave’s pride and joy and where he most prominently shows his ugly scars of his two failed therapy practices. His current employment at as a probation officer and these meetings are basically his “plan B”. After a few sessions, a couple of us found out we are not required to attend these things under the conditions of any of our probation…but by that point we had just become hooked on the utterly fucked up train wrecks they always become. And we didn’t want to tell the others cause we’re assholes.
Since Dave started having us write out these blogs, and since I’ve recently found that these blog entries are, in fact, public, I have been meaning to sneak a mini-tape recorder into one just so I could get a whole transcript written out and share it with the world. Figured they were expensive and you had to get that shit out of some spy magazine mail-order thingy…but then I found one at Wal-Mart for like $10. Who knew?
Quickly, just some background on the other four on my group beside me:
Arty – Short, angry, vulgar jersey-type guy. He can put the word “fuck” into any sentence with the ease of a skilled poet. My mentor in that regard. He got arrested for punching the garbage man outside his house I think. I love his guy.
Allison – Teenage shoplifter. Typical seventeen-year-old bitch type. Smokes like a tire fire. Communicates primarily in snark and sarcasm. Got pinched for shoplifting.
Andre – Angry black dude. Huge. Not trying to push a stereotype, but that’s him. Mostly comes for the cookies and to laugh at white people. I can respect that. Four traffic stops in one month, arrested for driving without a license.
Hillary – Fat, drunk, white trash hoarder. Arrested for having 55 cats in her house with one liter box.
Thus, on the heels of last nights meeting, I bring to you…
Probation Group Therapy
– Session 9 (part 1) :
[Dave walks in with his skin-tight khaki slacks, a striped green sweater-vest over a short sleeve button down and sandals over socked feet. His “film school” glasses floating on his nose and his nearly bald head glistening under the flickering halogen bulbs above us]
Dave: Good evening people! How are my chickadees tonight?
Andre: The donuts?
Dave: Excuse me, Andre?
Andre: You said you were bringing donuts. Where are the damn donuts?
Dave: Sorry, no time today. My tai-chi class ran a tad late and the new barista at Cup o’ Joe was completely incapable of grasping the subtle flavor nuances between organic milk and… oh my, I digress…
Andre: I’m leaving…
Dave: Andre, Andre…please. I think I have some whole wheat graham crackers in my fanny pack…
Me: If you open that thing I’m leaving too.
Artie: Can we fuckin’ move this along? The History Channel gots an Ice Road Truckers marathon starting at 8 and I ain’t missing that shit.
Dave: Yes, Artie we will move this along. Just have some patience ple-…umm….Hillary, are you pouring alcohol into your coffee?
Hillary: Fuck off.
Me: Christ, what is that…Jack Daniels?
Hillary: Out of Jack. Cheap Merlot. You can fuck off too.
Allison: Okay, Dave…this is like the twentieth fucking session I’ve been to. I do not belong with these people.
Andre: “These people”? The fuck you saying?
Allison: Not like that! Oh my god…he’s going to hit me…
Dave: People… people. Let’s regroup. Now repeat after me, “I am here, I am now, I am breathing as deeply as I can.” Good, good. Now let’s continue our exploration into the obviously flawed life maps that led you to today.
Artie: Oh fuck…there is something moving in Hillary’s purse. Did you bring another cat in here? I fucking told you I will kill the next cat you bring to these things!
Dave: Artie, as we have discussed, all living things have a soul and a purpose on this earth. Killing Hillary’s cat companion would therefore prevent us from ever learning that purpose. Hillary, is that a cat in your purse?
Hillary: I didn’t bring him from home. I found him on the way up here.
Dave: You found him on the street…is he a stray?
Hillary: No, I found him in the hall on the floor below. He was hanging out in front of a door. He looked lost.
Dave: *sigh* Hillary, that’s Ms. Newton’s cat from apartment 2-B downstairs. Loving cats are one thing, cat-napping them is simply inappropriate and illegal.
Hillary: Whatever. Mine now.
Me: Damn, Hillary is hardcore.
[Andre is laughing]
Dave: Hillary, you are bringing the cat back after this meeting. Now…Allison, I would like you to start. You were arrested at local 7-11 for stealing a large amount of GilletteLady razors?
Allison: Hygiene is important.
Dave: So is abiding the law, my dear. And you shoved them down your stockings…all 15 packages? Were you trying to get caught?
Allison: Well my jacket was full of 4-Loco, so…
Dave: I see. And when the security officer asked for an explanation…
[Hillary has now put down the coffee and is swigging her Merlot straight from the mini-bottle]
Allison: That I had leg tumors and to stop staring. He didn’t believe me, so I offered him a 4-Loco.
Artie: Okay, Can I just get my story out of the way here so I can go? I really don’t want to hear about some little slut’s quest to get drunk and shave her legs. They have websites about that shit that I can see anytime I want…
Dave: Artie, patience is a virtue and taking turns allows us to exercise that virtue in a safe and….
Artie: Okay, real simple. I see this garbage man taking what looked like a nice TV over to the garbage truck so I ran out to go grab it from him first. Why waste a nice TV? Well, he gets all fucking cranky and shit so I pop him in the jaw and take it. Not really a big deal.
Dave: Now Artie, these sessions are all about getting honest with yourself and respecting the group enough to be honest with them. This incident did not happen during regular trash pick-up hours did it? This was more around 8pm at night?
Artie: I don’t pay attention to garbage truck schedules…the fuck difference does it make?
Allison: I need a smoke and I’m not going outside. Feel free to bich accordingly…
Dave: Allison, there is no smoking in my office. Now Artie, tell the group, where exactly this altercation occurred. It was not in front of your house was it?
Artie: I dunno… like three blocks away. I was in my car.
Dave: And the man you attacked…he wasn’t really a garbage man, was he? He was just a regular guy taking his new plasma screen TV out to his car…not a garbage truck, right?
Me: My god, Dave. It’s like watching CSI…
Artie: Ahh…it was dark. Who can really be sure of these fucking things? I saw something, I reacted. Hey, I’m fucking human.
Dave: And when he reportedly screamed “This is my TV. I’m not throwing it away. Get away from me. I’m not a fucking garbage man.” None of these things helped to clarify the situation for you?
[Andre is now laughing uncontrollably]
Artie: Look Dave, I ain’t gonna get into semantics with you! Some things were said, some things happened. I just wanna go home and watch fuckin’ Ice Road Truckers!
Hillary: Okay…now I’m good and drunk. Finally…
[a knock on the office door and a woman walks in]
Woman: Hi, um…I’m looking for my cat?
[Andre falls out of chair]
(Part 2 coming soon…my fingers hurt)
The Rant Machine 