Don't get MADD...

Caller: "I don't have a big suicide problem. I just wanna talk to someone who won't really judge me. Or is paid not to, anyways. Is that alright?"

Helpline Operator: "Of course, I'm listening."

Caller: "I was a victim's advocate for MADD for years. I took the job mostly because it matched up with my social work degree, and I was tired of working HR for a Best Buy down the block. Thought it might be nice to use my skills in a different area. I'd never really had a drunk driver tragedy or anything.

So, anyways, things are cruising along nicely. I was doing really well, I mean. It never seemed to get me down that most of the people I was working for- the victims- were crying most of the time. I mean, its fairly obvious why they were crying, I just filled out my paper work, sent them to the right guy, the lawyer, counselor, whatever. So it was fairly easy to be a small comfort. I worked quickly and allowed them to get home. I loved it. It was like social work in tiny doses. I loved my job.

So here's what happened: I went out with an old football buddy from high school, right? I was going to be the DD, but of course, he convinces me to have a shot. One turns into a few, and a few turn into being there for twenty minutes past last call. He said he would call a cab, but he couldn't find his phone. He had drank a lot more than me, so I decided to drive us back to my condo, a few blocks away.

Well, we're driving down the road, and without warning, he just throws up- all over me. I swerve the wheel and hit a telephone pole. Cops and ambulance get to the scene. I'm pretty much fine, but my buddy ends up in a wheelchair.

So of course the newspaper the next day says something like "MADD EMPLOYEE CRIPPLES MAN IN DRUNK DRIVING ACCIDENT." So now I have all the lawyers I used to refer victims to getting ready to hand me my ass in court, right? My friend's family decides to sue me, and in the middle of this, MADD has a PR nightmare on their hands.

MADD starts picketing outside my condo. The Local news won't even let me get my mail for weeks. My friends and girlfriend, well they won't even talk to me. I had to move out of my place just to get away. It was like that Alice Cooper song, "I got no friends cause they read the paper, they can't be be seen with me" or whatever. The MADD people killed me, they followed me everywhere. Victims I had helped are throwing dirty diapers and coffee in my face, I was literally run out of town. I guess I can't blame them, but, eh...

So I sold my condo. Most of that money and my savings went to the guy and his family, or the court. I end up in a shitty one bedroom and of all things, working in a Bar 200 miles away. And now I'm a drunk. Heh... But a bicycling drunk. I never even bothered to get another car. All the stress I got from MADD turned me into a drunk.

So having people just talk to you about this weird shit. Does that ever make you wanna just drink?"

Helpline Operator: "I've been drinking the whole time."

Caller: "heh. I have too, come to think of it."

Helpline Operator: "Cheers."