Prairie City Social Club

The Club

"Shit day. Coffee?" Liv texted.

"When?" Frank replied after waiting exactly five minutes, for posterity.

"Sooner the better," Liv replied more quickly than her "vibe" typically allowed.

"Prairie City in 15 minutes?" he texted as he hurried for his shoes.

"I'm at the window," Liv answered.

"Be there soon," Frank replied from his car.

Frank pulled up in front of the cafe 15 minutes later, as promised. For all his faults, Frank had always been good with the estimation and execution of time. The sun was just falling below the buildings and he could see Liv, at the window, in the light of the shop. Frank approached her in the awkward way of new acquaintances that aren't yet sure if they hug. He wasn't much of a hugger to start and didn't know if young people even embrace friends that way. Liv looked up and saved the moment, "Go get a coffee."

"Medium extra hot, extra shot latte, please," Frank ordered from the same barista as last time.

"Sure thing. You two work a lot," the barista observed.

"Uh, yeah. It's a real problem," Frank replied.

"I bet. I'll bring your latte over in a few," they said, already working on the, probably, Italian coffee machine.

"Thanks," replied Frank.

Now spared from the awkward hug, Frank pulled up a chair next to Liv. He tossed a probing, "What's up?"

"Just one of those days, Frank. Have you ever just gotten up in the morning and you're like actually mad that you have to make the coffee again? Pissed off that you have to shower and brush your teeth, drive the same commute to work, disappoint the same people...those assholes can ruin my day and then go home and have a beer...or six. I can't fuckin' take 3 aspirin without feeling like I should be at a meeting," Liv said with much less energy than Frank had experienced previously.

"Yep. Shit day," nodding, "Have you been to a meeting? I'll go with you," Frank offered.

"That's the other damn thing. You were right too, you know. Meetings are bullshit. It's all ritual. It's just a new obligation and it's not nearly as fun as drinking. I think I'm over them," Liv stared at her shoes.

"Maybe this counts as a meeting?" Frank hoped as his latte was delivered by the barista who was now more curious than discreet.

"Hi, I'm Liv. I'm an alcoholic though I don't really fucking think I should have to say that every time I talk. It paints my whole existence with disorder and, frankly, it's demeaning, Frank," Liv snarked. She was mostly kidding but there was enough truth in her tone to make Frank a little nervous.

"Hi, Liv. I'm Frank. Frankly, I'm too scared of you to make you say anything. It turns out I used to drink a ton compulsively. I don't know why. Anxiety, trauma, my fucking DNA, everyone else did...real head scratcher."

"A real unsolved mystery there, Frank. We'll probably never know," Liv replied, understanding the game.

"First order of our newly formed club: No more weird, ritualized greetings," Frank suggested.

"Approved. What should we call ourselves? Like, AA is already taken, and I don't know how anonymous we are here anyway," said Liv. She threw a nod toward the barista who had been making the same espresso for a suspiciously long time.

"AAA is spoken for too. AAAA it is. 4A!" Frank threw and he missed.

"Boooooo," Liv replied, promptly reprimanding Frank's cornball humor.

"Prairie City Social Club?" Frank smirked knowing that it was quite an improvement over his prior offering.

"That's actually pretty good," Liv grinned.

Liv & Frank finished their coffees. They walked to the door without setting additional rules or expectations for their club. They'd do that next time. As they walked out to the now dark street, Liv went left, and Frank went right. Both felt just a little less hopeless than they had before.