Puke Pants

The friend that has been cutting my hair the past copule years is no longer doing it. At least in her home for her friends so I needed to find an alternative for a long over due cut. There's a part old school part hipster barbershop by my house that seemed promising so I went there today to get a cut.

It's a nice place, they don't take reservations so you just put your name on a chalk board, first come first serve type situation. I put my name on the board, grabbed a seat, and cranked up my book on tape(more accurately audio book but old habits die hard, harder than cassette tapes) to wait.

After a couple minutes I noticed the guy sitting next to me had stains on his pants. They were almost neon orange dots, in a splash pattern. Then it kind of clicked, oh, it was puke. Looking at the guy, more of a kid really, it was clear he was very hung over if not still drunk. After a time he got in the chair to get his hairs cut and he dickered with the barber about price, after it was all said and done turned out the kid only had $19. Made me wonder what this kid's story was. Why couldn't or didn't he change his pants, why did he need to get a haircut so desperately that he dragged himself in there in that condition, what financial issues must that kid have that he needed to grind the barber about a couple bucks and then stiff him on the tip.

And I knew. Maybe not the particulars but the situation, the mindset, the feeling. Everything about it was familiar to me. I use to be the guy with puke on his pants, half out of his mind, trying to run errands and get things done on a Sunday afternoon despite being anesthetized to the point of near immobility. I know what it is and its miserable. I know what its like when mundane day-to-day tasks and basic functioning seem sisyphean. And sitting there watching this kid struggle, flounder really, through his afternoon brought me a lot of gratitude. For me those days are over. I no longer have to live like that and it's a relief. I work hard each and every day to maintain my sobriety and sometimes living life on life's terms can be a grind. There are times I get worn out, irritated, fearful, discontented, resentful what-have-you and I lose sight of all the wonderful things in my life, large and small, and I forget how far I've come. I forget what my other life was like. But seeing this kid brought it back in a very sharp and striking way. It was a good reminder.

Not to say this kid has a problem like I do, maybe he just had a bad night I don't know. But running errands on a Sunday afternoon under the influence with puke on your pants ain't good. And for me I use to do that kind of thing a lot and there was a whole lot of pain and grief wrapped up in it. But today my life is different. I can go to this barbershop which I have never been to before and sit and wait calmly for a haircut. And although that may seem simple it use to be something overwhelming fraught with anxiety. I don't pity the kid, I feel for him but for me those days are long gone and I plan on keeping them in the rearview.