The Leroys: A Recovery Parody by Mark Masserant

mark masserant

With the final days of the winter of 2025 approaching and extreme boredom setting in, the Pink Elephant Group decided it was time for something new. Already in the books were several Bowl-a-thons, Karaoke Nights, and finally, the fly-by-night Velcro Twister Games, which led to random thirteenth steps and oodles of resentments. We dropped them like a bad habit.

Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Drunkard was proposed, but shot down unanimously—our butts had fallen off long ago, leaving most of us disqualified. After multiple suggestions were sunk, Bitter Bill spoke up from the back of the room.

“How’s about giving out some awards? ‘Course I probably won’t get one,” he droned drearily.

With the Oscars on the horizon, we decided he was right—we would host an awards ceremony, with our own peculiar spin to it. It immediately wobbled into our Pink Elephant think tank.

With much forethought, we agreed the trophies should be called Leroys, after the unforgettable drunk in newspaper comic pages, Leroy Lockhorn. Not to be overlooked, Leroy’s feisty wife, Loretta, would be credited with founding a new chapter of Black Belt Al-Anons, named Samurai Butterfly.

Despite the ever-present threat of plumping up widespread egos, the date was set for the inaugural event: The First Annual Leroy Awards. My sponsor thought it might not be in our best interests. He often stated, “Alcoholics are egomaniacs with inferiority complexes.” It was profound, but also a complete duh. Inasmuch as he assured newcomers they were in good hands, having assembled a panel of experts, moments later he would share how we used to feel lower than whale poop at the bottom of the ocean. He was a little inconsistent.

Apparently, he was trying to bring our ups down and our downs up in his own oddball way. Still, his far-out grasp of Zen was puzzling, although helpful on many levels—if you were an oxymoron-lover.

Nevertheless, next year I’ll nominate him for a new category; Best Producer of Confusion.

The old clubhouse was chosen as the venue. Cigarette smoke stains were scrubbed off the walls, and we loaded up on pamphlets, styrofoam cups and butt cans galore. A fleet of coffeepots was fired up to accommodate some serious sipping, and a metal sea of folding chairs was arranged. Donuts were plucked off shelves until local stores were bare. In no time, everything was in place, the room was packed and the festivities were ready to commence.

The one and only cable channel that considered filming it was the EGO Network, but they withdrew—too many old-timers were seen photo-bombing on the red carpet, with ghastly results.

After the banquet, the legendary but fictitious Juan Valdez was honored with Oscaresque razzle-dazzle for his life-time commitment to coffee beans. A barista’s toast was followed by a rousing group-slurp. Next was the main event: the winners of the Leroys were ready to be announced. To counterbalance ego re-inflation, attendees were urged to limit their applause and keep the schmoozing to a minimum. Nominees wondered if that wasn’t resentment material, but chose to let it go. It was time to begin.

MarkMasserant2aThe Winners of the First Leroy Awards:

Best Denial: Ain’tNoDuck Chuck

Best Pity Party: Bitter Bill

Best Dishonesty (Over and Over): JustaCouple Jimmy

Best Justified Resentment: NobodyHug Doug

Best Jaywalker: Category withdrawn; We are NOT good jaywalkers!

Best Creative Walking: Cain’tWalk Skip

Best Fridge Magnet: Surrender2Lynne

Best AA Urban Legend: Meeting-Makers Naked

Best Spiritual Experience: OuttaBody Dottie

Best Collapsible Bottoms: NotSoDead Fred

Best Stuck on Step 2: NutJob Bob

Best Slogan Slinger: My Sponsor

Best DTs: KindaScary Mary

Best Instrumental Soundtrack by an Al-Anon: Does not exist

Best Lower Companion: Bottomfeeda Rita

Best Sex Inventory: Fifty Shades of Jay

Best Thinking Problem: Cup-is-Half-Phil

Best Knowitall: You already know, don’t you?

Best Hole in the Soul: Incomplete Pete

Best High Bottom Drunk: Misdemeana Gina

Best Double-Dipper: Double-Dip Skip

By evening’s end, there were more mini-leads than any butt could endure, and rollicking ovations that rivaled any sobriety countdown. Still, egos were untarnished, gallons of coffee were gulped, and no directions were followed. No surprise there.

The premier event was enjoyed by all, even those who didn’t get a Leroy; in fact, those people were especially grateful. After clean-up, Pink Elephant Group members were asked if there would be another. Their response, of course: “We’re only doing this One Year at a Time.”

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