stand up comedian

The Meeting

Dex wondered why Annie always wore polka dots. Every time he had seen her, she was wearing some sort of polka dot attire. A dress. A cardigan. Surely she owned other clothes that weren’t covered in dots? He found them to be classy and flattering on her, sure. But Annie was a young and trendy girl and polka dots were so old fashioned. Perhaps they were being worn ironically, he thought.

He snapped out of his polka dot trance at the sound of a throat clearing cough by the heavy man next to him. How long have I been staring at her? Three members have spoken and Dex couldn’t recall a word they said. He knew it was wrong to look at her. Annie was half his age. She could have been his daughter in another life, if any of the women he had loved would have been that brave. He drank the rest of his black coffee and put the styrofoam cup at his feet so he was free to readjust his body into the plastic chair. People turned to look at his loud and squeaky contortion routine, but not Annie. Annie kept her eyes focused on the speaker, or occasionally at the Christmas Tree in the corner.

Alcoholics Anonymous at the community center wasn’t his favorite way to spend an evening, but he knew he had to keep going. Work the program. He didn’t speak up, and he rarely offered any nonverbal support like a head nod. Mostly he sat with his arms folded which gave the others in the meeting the impression he was angry, or embarrassed, or sad, or just waiting to leave so he could drink. But he wasn’t any of those things. He was mainly thinking about polka dots.

Annie could feel Dex’s eyes on her, even when she wasn’t speaking. Normally, blank stares are the kind of thing that would make her feel uneasy, but this kind of raw vulnerability and open sharing makes everyone feel uneasy, so it was fine. She could see that when she spoke, Dex would perk up and pay attention. He would linger on every word she said. And when she was through with her feelings, he would hunch back down and slide into his seat.

Tonight was the night. After the meeting ended, he grabbed his jacket and was the first one out the door to grab a smoke. Every other time he would smoke in his car while he watched Annie talk to the other members in the parking lot. He would watch her walk to the bus stop and see how friendly she was, talking to strangers that approached her. But this time, he stood outside and paced in anticipation of their first conversation. Finally. Tonight.

Annie left the community center happy. She always felt good after meetings, because meetings means more contacts, and more contacts means more money for her. She always sold the most pills around the holidays.

“Annie, hey…” he started walking towards her.

“Hi there, dude who never talks in group,” she responded, laughing at her own joke.

“Well, it is…anonymous, right?” he was nervous. Get to the stupid fucking point. “ I wanted to ask you something. It’s… well… I hope this doesn’t sound too weird.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

She's busting your balls. She doesn’t really think that. Look at her smile. She knows you're nervous.

“No,” he laughed, letting her know he was in on the joke. “It’s not a date. It’s something that I need.

“I understand,” she said, moving a step closer. Her voice lowered. “It’s 10 a hit for new customers and I only take cash, now.”

So easy. So much easier that it even should be.

Dex hated the thought of completing the transaction because of what it would mean. A relapse? No. Not that. Dexter doesn’t take drugs, and he isn’t even a heavy drinker. It would mean seeing Annie in metaphorical stripes and not actual dots. He would have to testify against her. He would have a lot of paperwork to fill out back at the precinct. But it would mean one less meeting he would have to sit though, and one less shitty cup of coffee he’d have to drink, and that was good enough reason for him.