County Detox Facility: A Review

It's hard to write a review for something you barely remember, but I think I can manage based on my shadowy memories, the various phone calls my room mate received, and the condition I was in when my friend abandoned me to the tender mercies of the City of Seattle Police Department.

A little later I'll give you the whole story about how I ended up in the Dutch Shisler Sobering Support Center, but for now let me just tell you about this place. I have no idea how many "cells" they had, but one of them contained a man who after having been there for at least four hours finally had the gumption to realize not only where he was, but that everyone around him kept calling him Bob. For reference, my name is most definately NOT Bob. My best guess on this is that when they first were picking me up I thought I was being arrested and since I didn't have my ID, I lied and told them Bob was my name. Or they just call everyone they don't know by a generic name. The first story is WAY more likely knowing me.

Coming to sitting on a vinyl mattress on a bed bolted to a wall, with my head in my hands, staring at a concrete floor was not one of my better days. But I have to admit that the facility was quite clean, with only a few homeless alcoholics strewn haphazardley across the floor. The staff was courteous and respectful. They didn't push me for my real name, and were quite cheerfully calling me Bob for just about everything. If you have never been so inebriated that you start to actually respond to an entirely different name, I highly recomend it. I was a whole different person in detox. The staff apparently told my room mate that I was rather amusing, and very easy to deal with. Amusing I believe, my sense of humor cracks me up, but easy to deal with: I think not. On the other hand, compared to professional homeless winos, I am probably pretty easy to handle.

I do have a few complaints about the sobering center. One, they didn't serve me booze to help slow the ultimate sobering crash. Two, they didn't give me a saline IV to keep me hydrated. Three, when I finally was released the guy basically walked me down a dark alley at one in the morning, out to the street and pointed me in a direction saying, "Your room mate is down there. Have a good night, Bob." That's just wrong. I could have been mugged and assaulted by all the homeless people that they had previously released back into the wild. I mean they are fine when they were still in their cages, and I was in mine, but once you let them loose they could prey on anyone. What would have happened had 15 or 20 staggering bums decided to assault me at once by waving paper cups, and old coffee cans at me all begging for change.

All in all my trip to the Dutch Shisler Sobering Support Center was pretty amusing, and would have provided a great eye-opener if I went in for things like that. As it was, the only lessons I learned are that wearing my room mate's retarded fedora looking hat, and my "He is Gay -->" shirt makes for an awesome story with a hysterical ending. Oh, and hanging out with any of my friends while drunk as shit means that no one is taking care of me, and thank god for that.