Speaker Seeker

Every morning at ten, I kick off my dress shoes and slide into an old pair of tennis shoes.  I leave my cubicle and circle the parking lot a few times.  I call my sponsor and ‘get current.”  A few weeks ago, during my walk, my phone buzzed.  It was Alise, a girl I had met on my very first day of recovery, in treatment.    Tanned with perfect teeth, Alise was one of those girls who’s hair was always in place while I looked like I’d been run over by a bus, a mean bus.

“Alise, OMG!  I can’t believe you’re calling!”  Static and a garbling voice.  ‘Did you drop the call, you loser,’ asked my inner critic, the loudest voice in my head.

“Helloo, B.G!” She called. B. G. stood for beautiful girl, a nickname she’d given on the first day.  Alise gave good nicknames.

“I’m so excited to hear from you.  How long has it been?”  I opened my calendar and searched “treatment.”  Three years ago, I had entered treatment for the addiction that nearly killed me.

“I know, I know, it’s been forever, how are you girl?”  Her tinny voice rang in my right ear.   

I knocked my phone once or twice, examining the bars.  “I hate my job and my wife and I had a stupid fight.”

“Ummmm-hmmm,” she listened and laughed.  “Me too, always.”

I scratched my head.  She’s blowing smoke up your ass, the eternal critic chimed in.  Then why call?  My sobriety countered.  I shook my head; this was the endless cognitive dissonance since leaving my addiction behind. 

“Let’s not get distracted,” she said, “you can use Group Me and do a Tenth Step on that after we hang up… hold on,” she spoke to someone out of earshot.  “I’m back….. as always God’s timing is perfect.”

We laughed.

“I only have a minute,” she sang breezily into my ear, “And the reason for my call is I am a speaker seeker for a new meeting. I’d like you to speak.”

“Hold on,” I said, opening my calendar, “if I don’t put it on my calendar, it will never happen.” 

She rattled off the details. “We’re in a different time zone, so this will be eleven a.m. your time.”

“Ummmm-hmmm,” I created a new event.  “Tuesday, the fifth.  How long do you want me to speak?” 

“Ten minutes,” she said.

“Is there a topic?”

“New adventures,” she said.

I laughed, “Every day is a new adventure.”

“Isn’t it?”  She rang off.

I walked back to the office.  The inner critic said, You’ll probably make a fool of yourself.

A few days later, I opened my inbox to Alise’s email, confirming our date and time.  The email itself was in a unusual font, almost like courier but a the letters were a little more leggy.  At the end of the email itself as a funny series of shapes and then a singularly bright gold, ornate star.  I made a mental note to myself to ask her about her graphic designer.  I really liked that gold star. 

I checked my calendar and confirmed the date and the time.  The critic spoke; you always miss appointments, because you’re a loser.  The more we use the calendar, the better we get, said my sobriety, but only half-heartedly.  It was a tough day.

On Tuesday, the fifth, I let our front desk know that I would take my lunch early.  At ten-fifty a.m., I went to my car.  During the Pandemic, my car had become my personal clubhouse.  The steering wheel held my cell phone and the blue tooth connection was stronger than in the office.  Plus, it was private.

I opened the online meeting space and realized I didn’t have the meeting number.  PANIC!!! Yelled the inner critic, you’re such a LOOOOOSER!!!!!

Thankfully, sobriety reminded me of Alise’s email with the link.  I clicked and waited settled back.  This proves nothing! Yelled the critic, “you’re still going to F up this message.”

The ornate gold star appeared on my screen followed by the series of strange shapes.  I clicked on a pop up window and saw Alise, framed in a small gold window.  I was seven minutes early.

“Oh good, you made it in,” she smiled those shiny white California teeth at me.  “We’ve only got a few minutes before we open the room and I want you to know a few things up front.”  Usually hosts of Twelve-Step meetings gave you the housekeeping before the meeting got started; this way the speaker could be sure to follow group conscious. 

“The meeting runs for an hour, you’ll get this time back.”

I nodded.

“After your share, we’ll round robin and the tech host will call out each person.”  There were those teeth again and didn’t her hair look particularly shiny?    

I looked at the clock; it was three minutes till the meeting began.

“This meeting is a non-English speaking meeting.  We have translators who will provide audio in English and translate you.  There will also be subtitles.” 

“Ok.”

“We’ll have a parking lot after the meeting and you can stick around and answer any specific questions.”

“Alise, I really don’t have that much sober time, I don’t know what kind of message I can share,” giving voice to the inner critic.

“Oh you’d be surprised,” she said, “you’d be surprised.”

The meeting opened with the serenity prayer.

There was a large crowd in the parking lot but I couldn’t stay, I had to go back to work. 

Alise moved us into a breakout room.  “Thanks again,” she said cheerfully.  Her head turned to someone off-screen.  “I’m sorry kiddo, I’ve got to run, something just came up.”  She signed off.

I walked back to the office.

“I thought you were taking lunch early,” my co-worker noted as I walked back in, slightly winded from the stairs.

“I did,” frowning behind a cubicle wall: that co-worker was always one donut shy of a dozen. I swiped my phone.  It was 11:10 a.m. “No, this can’t be right.”

That night, as I wrote my 10^th step inventory, I circled the note I had written in the margins.  How did one hour equal ten minutes.  The inner critic AND sobriety wanted to know.  Tired and groggy, I decided to let it go.  I fell asleep to silence in my head, a first in a very long time.

The next week, I opened my inbox to a Thank You email from Alise.  It looked exactly like the first email, with the strange font and the gold emblem.  There was a meeting time and a link.  It was late for me but I signed on that night from the darkness of our guest bedroom.

“Hi,” she whispered, “thanks for coming, I’ve finally got some down time.”  She smiled her brilliant, million-dollar smile.  “Thanks again for speaking for us last week.”

“Sure, I’m happy to be of service,” I said.  A pause, and then a pounding of questions came back to me.  “Alise, I had the strangest experience with my watch that day.”

“Oh it’s not strange,” she said, “And I’ll explain.  Then I someone who wants to meet you. Someone who needs a sponsor.”  Her hands placated someone off-screen.  “You see, we’re in a different time zone.  One that calculates time completely differently.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to ask, what time zone.”

She smiled those brilliantly white teeth.

“You know I must say, you’ve always looked good, but something’s changed.  You’re just glowing.”

“It’s the environment here; it’s so good for the skin.”  We sat there, opposite ends of technology, smiling at each other. 

I nearly forgot about the time.  “Anyway,” I said, “the time, there must have been something wrong with my phone.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your phone,” she said, “Venus time moves differently.”

“Did you say Venus?”

“Yes, I did.”

“As in the planet Venus?”

“Yes.”

“You mean to tell me that you’re on Venus right now?”

“Yes I am.”

A thousand negative voices rose inside of me, volleyed for attention and crested like a wave along Hawaii’s shore.  She’s pulling your leg.  She’s lying to you.  She’s a liar, she used you, she doesn’t like you.  This happened because you’re a loser.  She thinks you’re a loser.  Shaking, I pulled myself up.  “Alise, I don’t think it’s very funny to play with me like this.”

“Oh, I’m not playing with you, ten minutes Earth time is approximately one Venus hour, and Venus is in great need of recovered peoples such as yourself.  I knew you would deliver a strong message of recovery.”

What the actual fuck?  “Alise, my inner voice says you’re teasing me right now.

“Oh, I’m not,” she leaned back in her chair, pushing her hair out of her face.  “Tell you what; let me prove it to you.”  She beckoned to someone waiting off-screen.  Alise faded as a bright light filled the gold window.  “Adjust your display brightness,” Alise called from the background.

I dimmed and eventually I was able to make out a face.  At first, it was all bright light, and then slowly I was able to see oversized eyes, a diminutive nose and a small, pursed mouth that erupted into a smile. 

hello my name is samantha.  i need a sponsor.

 “Hello, it is nice to meet you.  I am Fortuna.  I need a sponsor”

This can’t be.

Fortuna smiled.  i myself am a newcomer, i have thirty days.

“I myself am a newcomer.  I have thirty days.”

I give up.

Alise popped back into the screen.  “We’d like to present you with a token of our appreciation,” she held up a scroll.  “We transcribed your share into Venian and had it written on a suitable scroll.” She unrolled it.  The letters gleamed in gold.

They’re having a joke on you.

“Would you like it?”

“Yes, I would like it very much,” I stammered.  The scroll dissolved from Alise’s hands and appeared on the comforter.

What the fuck?

Alise placated the listeners with her hands.  “Do you like it?”

I nodded.

There was a murmuring and then she continued.  “Venus is in the budding development of addiction.”  Her face was somber.  “Instead of allowing the disease to run through society, the Elders here sought out a remedy and found AA.  Much work needs to be done, as we only have three meetings a week, but we are all very excited about the future here.

“You’re. On. Venus?”

“Yes, I am and I need your help.”

“Anything,” I said.

“I need more speakers.  Can you help me?”
“I’d be happy to.”

As my home group meeting ended, I texted the speaker, who had posted his number in the chat.  “Hi, I’m wondering if you’re available to speak next week?”

“Sure, I am,” he replied.

“Great, I’ll send you the deets.”  I sent.  “BTW – you’ll get your time back.”

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