Hi My Name’s Alcoholic and I’m a Stroob


I’m going to preface this literary tour-de-force by acknowledging  I’m breaking the first holy grail of AA. That one that preludes the 1st of the twelve steps: “Thou shalt not bequeath upon souls the events that doth occur in Alcoholics Anonymos meetings”. So first up was Brad, a blue eyed blonde haired Architect from Blouberg…

Acknowledging you’re a 24 year old alcoholic is like admitting you’ve thought about Ellen DeGeneres in the nude. Whether you’re a girl or guy at some stage you’ve ripped the cargo pants and sweater vest off that little lesbian and thought “maybe”, but it’s not something you’re discussing in public. So me, walking into that local church hall to an ocean of free coffee, biscuits and people’s shattered lives, was a particularly grand recognition that nights of reckless tequila binges and occasional public nudity, were becoming too much. I was so nervous I could feel my underarm sweat patch creeping towards my waistline. A sweaty 20-something super-boozer with Gin on the mind and vomit on the trousers? Watch out bitches.


It really starts exactly how you would think. Awkward banter among the familiars before a bald guy calls us all to order, and we take our seats. There’s an oddly jovial atmosphere in the air. I was expecting a room filled with people who’ve lost their families, wrecked their cars or given blowjobs to cats, but it wasn’t. People seemed genuinely happy to be there, almost excited. The host says a few inspirational words and quotes Al Gore of all people, before inviting the first alchy to take the stage. “Hi, I’m Deepak Chopra and I’m an alcoholic”, and while the name might not have been real, the overwhelming bellow from the crowd certainly was. “Hi Deepak” they responded in militaristic unison. I was in a rags to riches Sly Stallone movie, but for a change… it was awesome.


One by one, people of all races, sizes, shapes and ratings from 2 to about a 7 and a half on the “I’d hit that” scale, stood up and told truly emotional tales of the vicious tolls alcohol had taken on their lives. I’ve been caught up in some pretty nasty positions thanks to booze. Broken bones, arrests, car crashes, anonymous sex and inappropriate  acts with a frozen chicken foot (true story) and some of the stuff these complete strangers were telling me made my ordeals seem like high-tea with the queen. Im not one to take glee in the plight of others, but hearing how I paled into comparison to guys with one leg and a woman who had accidentally killed her own children, did somehow bring my racing heart to a beat not resembling a jackhammer.

But with such morbid tales of real life horror echoing through the room , there was a blatant irony in that everyone was happy. There was accomplishment in the air. I had entered thinking that these people were just boozers who’d taken tequila too far. And while they were, they were overcoming a genuine disease. Doctor House would have kicked them in the nuggets, and before I arrived I would have too. But here they were, bearing their souls, looking for a solution and battling a beer filled demon grabbing them by the ankles. Do I want to share the hope and belief these guys did? Sure. Do I want to quit drinking? Yes. Am I going to? For the moment, but more to avoid them forcing a sponsor upon me. They say you should go every day for 72 days. I might pop in next week, and then call myself Jack or Jose, just to mess with them…


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  1. Haha nice Stroeb. Funny as always! Thumbs up! Next time take me with you. Stand up and confess to sober sex acts, continuing uninterupted whilst pretending to have walked into a sex addicts anonymous 🙂

  2. My man you are absolutely demented in a really strange but I think sociably acceptable way, perhaps both Ben and I need to join you one day, haha!
    Give me a shout if you want go for a beer this evening, just one?!
    Awewsome article dude.

  3. Hectic. Very cool article. Must have been interesting. I went as moral support once and it was quite revealing… Nice one dude

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