. . . . But May Have Stalled On the Tracks
I have not heard from Turtles Bones, 'Barry F" if you have been following along - in a while. Too long - not since he left The Peninsula of Doom really. That concerns me.
He survived the tweakers and the crack whores at the Craigville Motel in Hyannis.
That in itself is is a miracle - especially the naked one who, several times during the week long course of his visit here, came to his door at three in the morning to "borrow a cigarette" or whatever else she might manage to put into her mouth - which of course would have made our Twelve Stepping friend indebted - perhaps to purchase a rock or two to smoke. Barry is not a drug addict though so we had that fact in out favor.
Barry is an alcoholic not an addict. While a drug is a drug is a drug - alcohol is not!
God those chicks were scary. Not scary in the sense that they could run out of their rooms to jab an icepick into my forehead or anything - but scary in a more visceral and blood thirsty sense. They slinked and peeked through the curtains every time I walked by. Sometime I would hear the squeak of a door opening a crack behind me and feel eyes upon me - but when I turn
ed back to look a slam of the shut door went off just before my eyes could catch whoever or whatever had been there the second before.I could tell they were female. Just by the silhouette of their heads. they peered out in pairs; milling back and forth in the shadows of their darkened room. Then for a second they would be gone - only to appear again as one side of curtain brushed aside.
Why would this place be allowed to sink to such a state. This is Cape Cod! All summer long this "Craigville Motel" is filled with families and kids who come to vacation here on the Peninsula of Doom. There is a decent pool in the center of the court. OK so the rooms aren't exactly furnished like the Plaza - well not even like a Marriott -OK not even like a Holiday Inn - but still - they don't have to become portals to hell do they?
I suppose they do. The local police must be aware of it. The owners of the motel I am sure are. Yeah, but money talks, right?
Now you have to know Barry and me and most self-absorbed, self-centered and deranged alcoholics. For us to be walking amongst drug crazed and naked twenty something year old naked girls who are dying to have you check into their bedrooms
and are practically begging for it whole we do nothing more than shrug of a few goosebumps and laugh about it - is nothing less than a miracle. It is amazing how that works when motives are where they should be, isn't it.Despite the environs, Turtle Bones made his getaway unscathed - un-tempted and unharmed.That means that he is right about to begin making his amends and he is stalling out -- right on the tracks.
He headed back upstate - we have done all of our one-on-one work - inventories - first step, ect, and we can continue now through a combination of periodic visits, email phone ect.
Well, right in the middle of Step Eight, ol TB turns up in North Carolina - halfway to Florida. Just upped and gone!
So. OK. Lets see now.. . . . 'Unfinished Amends' . . . . . . . total dispensing of accountability . . . now now. . . where might his be going . . .. I wonder. Hmmmmm.
This happens a remarkable number of times - just when the prospect is feeling some freedom he bolts. I really hope that TB isn’t going to be another one. Thing about it is --- I do expect him to be. That sucks.
Turtlebone's story will not likely turn out well.
Peace,
Danny S
