MEDIA: Book Recommendation –

FEBRUARY 19, 2020 – Tessa and I met toward the end of my stay in rehab. She’d been attending their intensive outpatient program. She was five years old than me, a rock ‘n’ roll girl through and through, with long dark hair, and a cool vibe, like she just stepped off Led Zeppelin’s tour bus in the midseventies. She worked for a record label, and her boss sent her to treatment when he noticed that she was spinning out on alcohol and cocaine. She was my first real friend in sobriety.

The tall, skinny guy had a shaggy haircut and a broad smile, and as I shook his hand, he said, “I’m Bill.”

“Hi, I’m Erin. You look so familiar.”

We stood on the steps and chatted. Tessa and I told him that it was our first meeting outside of rehab. As we made small talk, I suddenly realized how I knew him.

“Wait, Bill, did you used to live in Beachwood Canyon…and, um, did you by any chance used to sell drugs?”

He laughed and said, “Yup! Did I sell to you?”

“Oh my god! Yeah, well, not to me, but to this weird guy I was dating. Mike-Jim. He had a weird tic where he would compulsively clear his throat.”

“Oh, yeah! I think I remember him.”

@LAWeekly