Congratulations on Meeting Judge Reinhold!

AA is a big community, spanning coast to coast. That said, if you move around enough you’ll see the same faces for the most part. People worn down by life, people who have all but given up, people who are showing up because it’s court mandated and it gets them out of their house arrest for an hour every Tuesday.

Watching them struggle, fail and succeed, it can get to be a little much. There’s only so much regularly scheduled, touching human drama you can handle, especially when it just hits every fucking week. Karen will backslide or Greg will slip up and end up spending the night with his ex again.

Its just so hum drum. Which is why, despite desiring to be a part of something in order to keep yourself grounded, you’ve decided recently to give it up and start drinking.

You’ll start tomorrow night in the seediest of San Francisco bars, a little joint called Chipolte, located in the mall food court. You’ll bring a bottle of Canadian Club in with you and pound it right there, just to make sure that everyone in the joint knows you like to party. Most of the patrons will start to lose their shit.

“Why is this man drinking in our burrito establishment?” they’ll ask.

“FUCK YOU!” you’ll reply.

“That is not a valid response,” they will retort.

“GAAAAAY,” you’ll parrot, not helping yourself at all.

At first it’ll seem like you’re in for some of that fierce violence and scorn the San Francisco gay community is so famed for. But then, even as some of the queens and the sweater-vest wearing liberals slip on their brass knuckles, a lone straw of a man will stand up and stretch out his hands.

“Sir,” he’ll say calmly. “You seem like you like to party.”

“FUCK YEAH!” you’ll respond. You do like to party, and this eerily familiar man will have proven himself quite a perceptive individual by noticing this. “I LIKE YOU!” you’ll declare.

The man will laugh. “Of course you do,” he’ll say, his slight belly shaking with laughter. That’s when you’ll recognize him.

“HOLY SHIT,” you’ll exclaim. “YOU’RE JUDGE REINHOLD!”

He’ll spread his hands wider as the crowd oohs and ahhs and generally agrees. Then he’ll nod and say “Guilty as charged.”

Everyone will burst out laughing and forget all about murdering you, and Judge Reinhold will sit down with you for a drink and a taco salad. This will lay the groundwork for one of the most successful bank robbing duos of the 21st century as well as our office’s new favorite “will they, won’t they” same-sex, ostensibly straight couple.

Congratulations on Meeting Judge Reinhold! Shit is about to get real.