Mustache Bob

Bob is a great guy who used to go to my Homegroup.  He moved south a couple of years ago, but he still comes around from time to time.

He has a dandy little mustache, and some of the greatest southern expressions I have ever heard.  Following are some of the wisdoms he’s passed on.

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“Remember:  This ain’t a Intellectual Program… It’s a Ass-Whippin’ Program!

“I went through Yeehaw Junction one time and got me a $300 speedy ticket! Hell! I knew better than that! I KNEW it was a speed trap.  It was written up in the goddam Triple-A!  So I made me an “Intellectual Decision”.  I decided to never speed through Yeehaw Junction again.  And ya know? In the last 15 years I been goin’ through it twice a month — just as slow as you please, wavin’ to the cops — and I don’t ‘spect I’ll ever come in here with my tail between my legs, tellin’ ya’ll ’bout how I got me another speedy ticket!

“But alcohol was different.  Every single morning I’d say: “Today I’m gonna drink just enough… to feel good enough… to quit.” And every night I’d be just as drunk as can be, wonderin’ how it happened again.

“I had to have my ass WHIPPED!”

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I was having trouble with the 2nd step, the whole “restore us to sanity” thing.  “I may have been crazy when I was drinking, but I’m fine now!” at 2 weeks sober.

“That’s fine, Jimmy! It’s suggested ya work the steps in order, but in your case we’ll make an exception.  You can skip the second part of the 2nd step for now, with one provision: ya have to take another look at it after you finish the 9th step.”

“What good will that do?”

“Well, it’s been my experience that after ya make amends to all the people that been conspirin’ against you, and plottin’ to screw you, you’ll have substantially fewer conversations with people that…. ya know… aren’t in the room with ya?  And maybe by then you’ll realize havin’ arguments with people that aren’t there is kinda Crazy!”

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And the dear man never set the bar too high for me:

“Lemme tell you about resentments!  Sometimes you run a story through your head 300… or 500… or 800 TIMES!  And that’s perfectly natural.  But when it get’s to be more than that you might want to put it down on paper and look at it with a sponsor!”

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“I spent hours and hours rehashing the outcome of the future.”

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“I was so impressed with the big book that I memorized an entire paragraph.  It’s on page 88.  It says: ‘It works – it really does!’

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“My uncle bought me my first drink.  He was an alcoholic too, but he never got sober.

“He drank so much that it made him impotent. (That means he couldn’t get it up, Jimmy).  So the Doctor gave him hormones.  And he overcorrected.  He saw a burning bush.  She had two legs.

“She was co-dependent and so was he.  Now, let me remind you ’bout the co-dependent cycle.  The first stage stage is Caretaking: “See what good care I’m takin’ of you?”.  The second stage is Resentment: “Goddamit! Why ain’t you actin’ right?”.  The third stage is Abandonment: “Fuck, I’m outta here!”.

“So he set her up in a house.  And she got herself a boyfriend.  And he caught ’em.  He took a deer rifle and kilt her. Then he kilt hisself.

“My point is: I ast him once why he didn’t go to A.A.  He said: “I been to those damned old A.A. meetings. All they do there is smoke cigarettes and drink coffee.”

“Ya’ know, I think I’ll take my chance with these damned old A.A. meetings.”
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“When I come in here I was different from y’all.

I’d never lost a job.  I’d had the same job for 25 years.  I owned the place.  An’ I was losing 15% on every job I did.

I’d never been homeless.  I had a half-million dollar home! Hadn’t been there in 6 months ’cause my wife was so mad at me.  So I stayed in a little apartment down the road a-piece.

I’d never gotten me a Dee-Dubya-Eye.  One time I did get stopped by the Police a half a block from my house, but when they found out my son was a State Trooper they let me go.  Did $15,000 property damage in that last half block!  Lookin’ back, I wish I’d walked, but at the time I didn’t think I could make it!

I’d never tried to kill myself.  I had a huge life insurance policy.  Shit! I was worth more dead than I was alive.  They’d of been better off without me,  and I’d be damned if I was gonna give them bastards the pleasure!”
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“Christmas of ”90 I was standin’ in my livin’ room, cryin’: “If everyone’d just leave me alone I’d be all right!”  Fuck! Wadn’t nobody bothering me! My customers wouldn’t call me back… my Banker wouldn’t return my calls… Most of my girlfriends wouldn’t even talk to me! Shit! Everybody was leavin’ me alone!

“The only 2 people left in my life were sitting in my living room: my sister and my girlfriend.  They were both so co-dependent you couldn’t get rid of ’em with a shitty stick! 

“I finally decided to do something about my drinkin’.  So I poured out my liquor.  I called the detox, and they couldn’t take me until the next day.

“Folks? Don’t pour out your liquor until you’re on the way to the hospital!  It was a miserable day, and there ain’t no place that sells liquor on Christmas Day!

“When I got to the detox they said they could cure me in 90 days at a thousand dollars a day.  When they found out my insurance only paid $5000 they decided they could cure me in 10 days, and suggested I go to A.A. meetings.”

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“So I get on the airplane and I’m in the middle seat.  ‘Long comes a big ol’ Fat Gal and sits on the aisle seat.  Soon as they start serving drinks she asks for 4 o’ them miniatures.  The fat lady looks over at me and says: “You want something, honey?”

“I said: “No thanks, Last time I drank, I missed Christmas of ”90″

“She say’s: “That’s all right! I’ve always hated fuckin’ Christmas!””

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“So my aunt says: You still goin’ to those A.A. meetings?

“I say: “Yes.”

“She says: “Damn, Bobby. I knew you was bad… I didn’t know you was THAT bad!“”

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“Heh, Heh, Heh.  Looks like Jimmy’s got a little monkey on his back.  But that’s OK, it’s a cute little monkey.  But don’t you feed it!  It’ll turn into a Go-rilla!  And quitin’ drinkin’ is like having sex with a go-rilla: it ain’t necessarily over just ’cause you’re tired, and ya think you’ve had enough.  The Go-rilla’s in charge!”

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“I see we got us a newcomer here.  I know what’s goin’ through your mind.  I’ll bet right about now you’re lookin’ around at all of us thinkin’: “Man, did I ever fuck up this time!”  And I got some bad news for you: We can’t un-fuck ya!  Ain’t nothin’ gonna get said in these meetings that’s gonna fix your life.  That’s gonna be between you and your God.  All we can do is help you get ready for the meetin’ with Him.”

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To the newcomer:

“We’re the kids your Momma told you not to play with!”

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I was a six or eight months sober and “Mustache Bob” asked me: “You stayin’ sober?”

Me: “Yep!”

Bob: “You workin’ every day, support your family, pay your taxes?”

Me: “Yep!”

Bob: “I saw you drive here.  You got a driver’s license, a legal tag on your car?  Got some insurance? Makin’ payments on your car?”

Me: “Yep!”

Bob: “You know what you’re doing?”

Me: “Working the program of Alcoholic’s Anonymous?”

Bob: “Naah!  You’re doing the bare minimum that every other sumbitch in the world does every day of his life!  But I’ll bet you want a medal for stayin’ sober, don’t you?  Well… We give you one, once a year.”

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Bob  asked me what’s wrong, so I tell him about my job, and how they just don’t appreciate me.  If they did, I’d have 60 happy hours a week, instead of 60 miserable ones.  What a difference THAT would make!

He nods. “Uh-huh! Uh-huh! Jobs are like that”

I tell him about my wife, and how she doesn’t give me enough attention.  If she did, I wouldn’t need my girlfriend.

“Sure! I hear you!”

I tell him about my kids, and how they never listen to me.  If they did, I wouldn’t spend so much time away from home.

“Yep! That’s kids for you!”

So when I get done telling him all the weights of the world I’m carrying around, I ask him what I should do about all these situations.

He tells me: “Well… You don’t clean out a whorehouse by shootin’ the Piano Player… He ain’t responsible for what goes on upstairs!  Now forget all them and tell me: what’s goin’ on with Jimmy!”

I can’t tell you how many years it took for me to figure that one out.   I am the only Whoremaster in my life.  My happiness is up to me, and has very little to do with them.   All those people, places and things are just the entertainment.

Play on, Piano Man!

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“So… Ya never drank before noon, huh?  Yeah! Alcoholics love their rules! I had me a rule, too: I never drank anything stronger than vodka before 10:00 in the mornin’! Heh! Heh!”

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Alcoholics tend to be overly concerned with their own situation.  When a normal person gets a flat tire, they call Triple-A.  When an alcoholic gets a flat tire, they have to call the Suicide Hotline, ’cause it’s the end of the world!

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When starting the meeting:

“Do we have any visitors? (pause) That’s north of Lutz, or south of Six-Mile Creek.  (pause)

“Anybody have a topic? (pause)  Anybody wanna save $75 on a 45 minute hour with a psy-chiatrist? (pause)    Anybody forget their medication and just feel like talkin’? (pause) Well, then let’s read the Daily Reflection.”

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When reading the Preamble:

“A.A. is not allied with any sect (that’s S-E-C-T), denomination, politics, organization or institution.”

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When ending the meeting:

“If you’re feelin’ Spiritual, and you want to do something nice for your Family… Leave ’em the hell alone!”

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“I feel like the Country Dog what gone to the City!  When I run they bite my ass, when I stand still they fuck me!”

(I still haven’t figured this one out!)

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I can’t do accents.  I mean in person, with my voice.  I do an Irish accent and you might think I was trying for Mexican… or Chinese.  I’m bad.  I’m no better in writing.  I’m not Mark Twain.  I know here I make Bob sound like a Hillbilly or a Country Bumpkin.  He’s anything but.  He’s one of the most sophisticated men I’ve ever met, but he is a “Country Boy”.

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1 Response to Mustache Bob

  1. AsJimSeesIt says:

    “Mustache” Bob — also known as “Bridge-Builder” Bob — makes a cameo appearance in these posts:

    Reap what you Sew


    https://asjimseesit.wordpress.com/2010/07/21/Mental-Illness/

    Cravings

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