The metal chair felt like the screws were going to pop off when Blue Banshee sat down, scrunching his giant frame into the seat on the floor of the bowling alley basement. Ramon, the group organizer, motioned to begin.
“Hello everyone. My name is Blue Banshee.”
“Hello Blue.”
“Welcome Blue.”
“Hi Mr. Banshee.”
Ramon raised a finger. “Azul. Please feel free to remove your mask if you’re comfortable. We are bound by secrecy here.”
He rubbed his leg. “Perhaps another time.”
“That’s no problem, Azul. Please continue.”
“I have these urges. These desires to achieve this certain… goal of mine and I just keep failing.”
“We like to think of failing,” Ramon said, “as just getting one step closer to success. Heck, failing means you’re at least trying, isn’t that right folks?”
People around the room nodded in agreement.
“Tell me, Azul, are you proud of the work you’ve done toward your goal, despite the setbacks?”
“Well, some of it. I had this really great plan involving, we’ll call it a surprise, but I just ended up falling in a lake. Then my car got stolen. Also my axe wound up in the same lake and then a replacement got stuck in a tree. But I did help out this elderly gentleman, sort of at the expense of my own needs, but it still felt good.”
“Mmhm,” Ramon said.
“I’m sorry, did you say axe?” someone asked.
“Let’s allow Azul to finish,” Ramon said. “Those all sound quite difficult, though it is nice to hear you found joy in helping others. That’s one of our guiding principles. Helping others gets us out of our own heads.”
Blue Banshee shifted in his chair. “So anyway. I’m not even sure what I’m doing here. I saw the flyer and figured maybe it’d be good to get a little of these frustrations off my chest.”
“Well, we’re glad you came,” Ramon said. “It’s not easy to put yourself out there. And while I’m not quite sure how your goals align to Overeaters Anonymous, you’re always welcome.”
The group nodded again.
Ramon surveyed the room. “Who wants to share next?”
Blue Banshee let out a breath and sat back. His chair started to creeeaaaaaaaak. A bolt shot from the corner.
CRASH. It collapsed beneath him.
*****
The bowling alley parking lot was nearly empty. A few night owls still knocking down pins. Blue Banshee clicked his remote to unlock the doors on his Hyundai. He stood by his car for a moment, taking in the cool evening air, watching the yellow light flash at the intersection.
“Hey, Azul, wait up,” Ramon said. He jogged from the basement door. “Sorry again about the chair. Hope that doesn’t discourage you from coming back. It’s good to have newcomers. More experiences, more support.”
“Not a problem.”
“So, you work around here?” Ramon asked.
“Between jobs at the moment. Had something up at Camp Shikawa, but that’s fizzled out since they shut down for fall.”
“Seasonal work, that can be tough. But hey, life is cyclical, I’m sure things will turn around. Hang in there.”
“Will do.”
A brightly painted funnel cake truck rumbled past, towing a trailer.
Ramon laughed. “There’s some irony for ya. A funnel cake truck sails by the moment a meeting for people with food disorders lets out. Am I right?”
“Mmhm.”
“Well stay strong. The county fair season starts this weekend. It’s gonna be a wild few weeks. A lot of temptation out there.”
Blue Banshee’s grin was hidden under the mask. “There sure will be.”
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—Ricky C.
Ok, now we're getting somewhere. Blue has to have some success at the county fair!