Wacky tabbacy connoisseurs Annie and Roach discuss higher powers while getting stoned between studio sessions. An examination of twelve step credos from a collection of non-soberites.

This story is featured in my collection of short stories entitled Short Songs, featuring characters from The Rise and Fall of Skye Wright series.

     Annie grabbed a few small bags of chips and an eclair off of the snack table. She sat at Colleen’s desk to enjoy her junk food lunch while everyone else was out getting what she assumed would be proper lunch food, her eyes mentally rolling at what would no doubt be a smorgasbord of vegan food. She scarfed the chips down quickly, trying to quell the empty pit in her stomach after having spent hours in the recording studio in pursuit of trying to appease the sensibilities of their leader Skye, the all too-well trained ear of Larry their sound engineer, and their steadfast and drill-sergeant like band manager Tandasil.
     She slowed down when she got to the eclair, even though she knew there might be hell to pay if Colleen caught her eating at her desk.
     Annie flinched, stopping in mid-chew, when she heard someone clambering around the kitchenette.
     She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the exploding brown frazzled hair of Roach, their drummer.
     “Whatcha’ still doin’ here?” asked Annie. “I thought you ran out with the rest of them.”
     “I just ran down to the 7-11 for a quick microwave burrito because I wanna adjust my drums for the next round.” Roach pulled up an office chair and sat down. “Whatchoo still doin’ here?”
     Annie looked around the office before taking a large joint out of her jean vest pocket. She held it up.
     “Nice!”
     “You wanna fuck with your drums or come out into the alley with me and spark this up?”
     Roach looked around the office before turning back to Annie. “I got some extra kush in my backpack”
     Annie nodded and downed the rest of her eclair as Roach went through her backpack.
     Going out the loading dock door, Annie looked up and down the alleyway. “I don’t know why I’m lookin’ around. It’s not like you can still get busted for this anymore.”
     “If the cops catch us then we’ll have to share.”
     Annie lit her joint, taking a long drag off of it to get the flame going. She held in her hit as she handed it to Roach.
     Roach brought the joint up to her lips and took a long drag as her eyes darted around.
     “PTSD,” said Roach.
     “What?”
     “I still have my old reflexes, from when you could still get arrested for this shit.”
     Annie shook her head before taking the joint. She took a long drag and tilted her head back, her ratted hair cascading down her back.
     “Sometimes I feel like we should roll it back,” said Roach.
     “Whatcha mean?” asked Annie as a large plume of smoke cumulated from her mouth.
     “I mean the rest of the band are twelve steppers, clean an’ sober. Maybe we should hold back the stoning and drinkin’ when we’re around ‘em.”
     “Fuckin’ a. I already do that.”
     “Yeah?”
     “You know how baked I would get for these gigs if I wasn’t workin’ with straight edgers?”
     Roach looked up and down the alley. It was a fairly orderly alleyway for San Francisco. There were a few wooden pallets and a dumpster, but it was free of much of the kind of clutter one would usually find behind a South-of-Market building.
     As long as Roach had been a regular at Butt Fork studios, she had only once seen a homeless person in that particular alleyway, and they had just set up their mobile camp for a night.
     Roach launched a large plume of smoke just as the short and curly haired Friggy, the bass player for the Freak Outs, walked into the alleyway from the service door.
     “Oye’, poco” greeted Annie.
     “Don’t call me that,” said Friggy. “Can I get a hit a’ that?” he asked as he pointed to the smoldering joint in Roach’s hand.
     “Sure.”
     “You sure you wanna get baked before your recording session?” asked Annie.
     “Just a couple a’ hits,” he said. “They won’t notice, will they?”
     “Who won’t?” asked Roach.
     “Y’know, Skye an’ tall n’ scary. What’s her name? Tan-dab-a-seal or somethin’?”
     “Tandasil,” said Annie. “And if you think those ol’ club hags aren’t gonna know you’re stoned, you’re totally kiddin’ yourself!”
     “Oh shit.”
     “They won’t care,” said Roach.
     Friggy’s expression softened. “Okay, yeah sure.” He held up the smoldering joint. “Just one more hit. That’s it!”
     “You fuckin’ amateur,” sneered Annie. “Go on, get baked!”
     Friggy took a quick hit and handed back the joint.
     Annie shook her head as Friggy ducked back into the studio. “Jeez, y’think he was doing coke or somethin’.”
     “Psh! I haven’t had a line a’ that shit in years.”
     “Me neither.” Annie looked up and down the alleyway. “I mean, what would you do if someone offered you a line?”
     Roach lifted her head as wisps of smoke snaked through her curly hair. “Jeez, I dunno. I guess it would depend on the circumstances.”
     “If one of the soberites was around?”
     Roach gritted her teeth as she handed the joint to Annie. “I guess… No. I wouldn’t want to do any a’ that if they were around. I mean, if they were in the room and saw us.”
     “That shit trips me out.”
     “Right? Not doin’ anythin at all? Not even beer?” Roach narrowed her eyes as she brushed her hair back. “It’s kinda hard to imagine.”
     “I mean, I can see not doin’ coke an’ speed anymore. That shit is just a bit much. No weed? No booze?”
     “No coke or speed at all again? Ever?”
     Annie shrugged. “Maybe I’m gettin’ old.”
     “Or maybe Skye and Miranda are rubbin’ off on us.”
     Annie rolled her eyes at Roach. “Can you imagine those meetings? All the God and spirituality hooey?”
     “Well, yeah, I can imagine it. Doesn’t mean I want to get into it.”
     “From what I understand you gotta get a higher power.”
     Roach squinted at Annie. “A what? Get high power?”
     “So the way I hear it, you gotta believe in god, or gods, or some god-like higher power thingy when you join twelve step. An’ it ain’t necessarily supposed to be the Christian god or nuthin’, just some higher power of your own that you create.”
     “Sounds kinda wacky.” Roach handed the joint back and shook her head around. “Can you imagine Skye or Miranda gettin’ all Godsy and religious about anything? I mean, gimme a break.”
     “Well, from what I heard you can get fudgey about the whole higher power whoop-de-doo.”
     “Sure. Like, can anything be a higher power?”
     “I dunno. You wanna ask one a’ them?” said Annie as wisps of smoke drifted from her lips.
     “Fuck no. They might give me a sermon.”
     “They ain’t Lee,” said Annie as she handed the joint to Roach.
     “You mean Scather.”
     “She wants to be called Lee now.”
     Roach shook her head around before taking another hit. “I don’t give a fuck what her new name is,” said Roach in a strained voice as she held in her hit. “She’ll always be scather to me,” said Roach as her face was concealed by a new plume of smoke.
     “I get it,” said Annie as she took hold of the joint and leaned back against the wall. “I once saw that fuck up clock three pit boys in a completely drunken rage before a whole gang a’ boots and braces wrestled her drunk ass outta the club.”
     “It’s so hard to believe miss super sober was once the most dangerous betty bomb in the scene. Like, how the hell did she become the super ripped physical fitness trainer and the scene queen of the clean and sober clan? That shit is just surreal.”
     Annie shook her head as she lit a new joint. “That’s the kinda shit that can make you believe anything’s possible.
     “Okay, who or what is your higher power?”
     Annie dropped her head back, looking at the sky as she took another drag.
     Annie brought her head back down. “Okay, how ‘bout this. John Waters is God.”
     “Duh! Of course he is.”
     “But he doesn’t rule his realm by himself. He has his angels!”
     “John Waters angels? What?”
     They were momentarily startled when the door clacked open.
     The tall and slim Larry walked into the alleyway, ducking as he walked through the door so his straight and tall blue mohawk did not hit the top of the door.
     “What are you lovelies doing in this filthy alleyway?” announced Larry.
     “It’s not that filthy,” said Roach.
     “John Waters is God,” said Annie.
     “I thought Lux Interior was God,” said Larry as he eyed the smoldering joint in Annie’s hand.
     “We’re tryin’ to think of our higher power,” said Roach. “Y’know, like our twelve steppin’ friends in there.”
     “Yeah right.” Larry held out his hand. “May I?”
     “Toke up dude,” said Annie as she handed Larry the joint.
     “We were tryin’ to imagine our higher powers if we decided to go all twelve step like the soberites in there,” said Roach.
     “John Waters then?” asked Larry as he held in a hit.
     “With his angels!” said Annie. “He would have his avenging angel Divine! He would send Divine after people if he wanted to punish them or scare them.”
     “A big giant drag queen? Sounds about right.”
     “Naw,” said Roach as she shook her head. “Not a drag queen. A female impersonator.”
     “What’s the difference?”
     “Drag queens pretty themselves up. They get all glamorous. Divine sometimes dressed like a slob or a housewife. No drag queen would ever go around looking like that.”
     “Yeah, sure,” said Larry as he handed the joint to Roach.
     “So it’s settled,” said Annie. “John Waters is God, and Divine is his avenging angel.”
     “Settled?” asked Roach. “You just decided to anoint him God.”
     “If Divine is the avenging angel,” asked Larry, “then doesn’t he have a good angel? Y’know, someone to inspire his minions?”
     “Yeah, who’s the good guy?”
     Annie took hold of the joint and swiveled her head around in thought. “Mmm… maybe Liberace?”
     “What?” yawped Roach. “Who’re you anyways? My grandpa?”
     “How about Buddy Cole instead?” suggested Larry.
     “Eh. Too smarmy,” said Annie.
     “I kinda like the Liberace idea.”
     “Meh. Too old fashioned if y’ask me,” said Roach.
     Annie narrowed her eyes. “Hey, it’s my pantheon. I get to decide who the angels are!”
     “All men though,” said Larry.
     “What?” asked Roach as she screwed up her face.
     “Your pantheon is all-male.”
     “Yeah, but a bunch gay dudes!”
     “Still all guys.”
     “Okay, how about this,” said Annie. “Susie Bright is God!”
     “Hell yeah!” said Roach.
     “Who’s Susie Bright?” asked Larry.
     “Sex girl,” said Roach.
     “Sex girl? Okay.”
     “Sex writer. And sex activist,” said Annie.
     “Sounds very San Francisco.”
     “She is!” said Roach.
     “But if John Waters is already God, how can Miss Bright also be God.?”
     “A war!” announced Annie as she held up a fist.
     “A pantheon war?” asked Roach.
     “Exactly!”
     “Who are her angels?” asked Larry.
     “Who indeed,” said Annie as she knitted her brow in thought.
     “Oh! Annie Sprinkle,” said Roach.
     “Perfect!”
     “Who’s Annie Sprinkle?” asked Larry.
     “Damn Larry, don’tcha’ know anything?”
     “How about the avenging angel then? Who’s that gonna be?”
     “Camille Paglia,” said Annie without skipping a beat.
     “Who?”
     Roach walked up to Larry and shook her head so that her long, curly hair flailed in his face.
     “Gah! Awright, so I don’t know who she is either.”
     Roach retreated. “Paglia’s cool, but listening to her talk is almost exhausting.”
     “At least in the old days,” said Annie. “I don’t know what she’s like now.”
     Larry leaned against the alleyway wall. “So hang on now, you’ve got two different Gods with their own sets of angels. How you gonna have two pantheons as your higher power?”
     “Easy. They’ll have a war!”
     “Ooh!’ said Roach. “Holy war!”
     “Then we have to decide what kind of armies they have,” said Annie.
     “Roller derby gals for the god Sussie bright,” said Roach.
     “Naked ones?”
     “Only if they have big titties.”
     “I like the sound a’ that!” said Larry.
     Roach walked into the middle of the alley and put her hands on her hips. “So another part of twelve step is sayin’ you’re powerless over drugs an’ alcohol.”
     “Okay,” said Annie.
     “What are we powerless over?”
     “Sketchy pit boys,” said Annie as she lit another joint.
     “True enough,” said Roach.
     “What are you powerless over Larry?”
     “Me girlfriend “ said Larry as Roach handed him the joint.
     Roach shook her head around. “I gotta say, I was surprised when I found out you two were together.”
     “Yeah? How’s that?”
     “Well…” Roach glanced atAnnie who shrugged. “You know our nickname for her is the Vulcan.”
     “Yes. Understandable. It’s an accurate Star Trek reference.”
     “Star Trek…” said Annie as she let her head drop to one side.
     “Skye once compared me to Scotty.”
     “The chief engineer?” asked Roach. “You really are. I can see the mixing board having a warp core breach!”
     “Nerds!” snided Annie.
     “She’s gonna blow any minute captain!”said Larry in his best Scottish accent.
     “That’s what he said!” smiled Roach.
     “An you know,” continued Annie as she looked at Larry, “you’re like…”
     “Not very vulcan-like,” said Roach.
     “A little more carefree than the Tand?” asked Larry.
     “Just a bit, yeah!” said Annie.
     “I imagine her sleepin’ like a vampire,” said Roach, “All straight-backed, with her hands cross against her chest.”
     “Oh God, she sleeps perfectly,” said Larry, “No drool an all curled up on her side, not all splayed out like someone who passed out from too much drinkin’.”
     “No surprise there,” said Annie.
     Larry tossed his head towards the door. “You wanna tell those twelve steppers in there about your warring gay pantheons?”
     Annie got a sour look on her face. “Naw. I don’t want them to think I’m making fun a’ them. I mean, I know we harass them now and again, but… all the fucked up shit you’d have to go through to seriously give up alla that. I mean, most people I know wouldn’t be able to let it go, to totally go cold turkey on all of it. No booze, no beer, no weed… I can’t imagine having to go that far, stayin’ away from alla that just to keep your mind from falling apart so badly that you’re in danger of totally fucking up yourself and everyone else around you. That kinda shit is just… I can’t even imagine it.”
     They all became quiet as Roach looked at the smoldering remnants of their latest joint.
     Their long silence was broken when the door clacked open.
     “What the fuck are you reprobates doin’ back here?” asked the wild-haired Skye.
     “We’re havin’ a twelve step meetin’!” announced Annie.
     Skye gave them an are-you-kidding-me scowl. “Get in here an let’s get this thing going again or I will drag you to a real twelve step meeting! We gotta grind out our last couple a’ songs so The Freakouts can have Larry.”
     “Yeah, yeah, just give us another minute.”
     Skye went back inside.
     Roach held up the quickly dying joint. “Anyone want to kill this?”
     Annie and Larry shook their heads.