Kava. Heard of it? I didn’t. And let me tell you that it ain’t coffee or tea. I’m hoping to get a sense of humor about this story and tell it on stage at some point, but I need to figure that out without grossing out my audience. (That’s a warning folks. Continue at your own risk.)
I was invited by a sober sister to join her and her friends at Kava Sutra. I looked the place up online and it described Kava as a root that is made into a beverage that you drink out of a bowl. I envisioned a coffee shop or a tea house, a zen den as it were, and I went.
I got there a little early and sat. Dimly lit. A bunch of men hunched over the bar. No tables. I instantly felt like I was out to party, and I was excited for my friend to arrive. How fun that I could be at a bar and not drink! The bartender gave us her spiel about Kava. It will relax you. It will help you sleep. And this part, that I didn’t understand and still don’t, there is a reverse effect that happens when you first try it. It seemed like she was saying: the more you drink, the more likely it will be to relax you. I hadn’t eaten and they didn’t serve food. Let me remind you all of my default mindset. If a little feels good, more will feel better. And even more will feel much better. Along with my companions, and even though I was starting to feel sick, I pounded six bowls of the stuff. Each with a shot of pineapple juice chaser. Soon in, I found myself blank and unable to have a conversation. Which was a shame, because I really liked the people I was with.
I started to feel sick and needing a bathroom. I made my way to the single restroom in the back where there were two people waiting in line. I needed privacy. So, I made the somewhat irrational decision to get in my car and do the 45 minute drive home. Hunched over the steering wheel, desperately trying not to get sick and keeping one eye open for a 7-Eleven or a station with a bathroom, I drove. I was almost home and passing by LifeTime Fitness. If I could make it inside, I could use the family changing room private bathrooms. I pulled into the shopping center and lo and behold, didn’t make it to Lifetime.
The Kava came out of me as I projectile vomited all over my car. Much too late, I opened my door and hung my head barely out. There is only one other time in my life that this has happened. Two martinis on an empty stomach at my local bar, hubby picked me up, I threw up all over his car and ended up in the ER convinced that I had been roofied. I hadn’t. I just can’t handle my substances.
What have I learned from this disgusting experience? 1. A sober bar doesn’t necessarily mean substance-free. 2. I should read about the substance I am about to ingest. 3. When someone is saying, more is better, I should stop and pause and ask myself, when has more been better? 4. I should not get in my car when I am under the influence. And 5. I am an addict, and I will always be one. More will always seem better.