support group one: no one left behind

[hearnospeakno]

When: Friday 6:00 p.m.
Where: Attic Observatory
What: Community Support Group

As Nick promised on his open advertisements, there are chairs and coffee in the Attic Observatory. There's even a table laden with what food products Nick and co could round up.

The process of setting up for a group meeting felt enough like Boulder that Nick took a short break to lean, palms first, against a wall. It was a short, easily displaced moment, and he has no intention of lingering on it.

This is about everyone, one way or another. For all the people stuck here, and everyone new, and all those in-between. Nick left the purpose of the group intentionally vague. In the future, he assumes it'll have to be narrowed down and split up for the sake of different needs, but for this first coming together of the displaced in any non-official capacity he wants it to be open for everyone. It wouldn't be right, otherwise.

So all newcomers will find Nick by the attic observatory door, nursing a cup of black coffee next to a clearly printed sign:

Hi, I'm Nick. Welcome to the first Nexus Hotel Support Group. Whatever your problem, we'll listen. Help yourself to coffee and food.

Underneath the words, Nick has drawn and crossed out a mouth and ear, leaving an arrow pointed at himself. His pad of paper and pen are obvious on his lap.

Comments

[legendthatwas]

Martha was used to people looking at her like they were trying not to be too curious. It was sort of part and parcel with the kind of travel she'd been up to, not all that long ago, and she'd had far worse leveled at her. (Particularly, to be honest, in the places and times where the locals didn't either anticipate seeing a human or were humans backwards enough that a black woman with a medical degree was like a goddamn unicorn. Those particular memories still stung.)

This man's expression wasn't like that, though, and Martha smiled a little more, noting in response, "If that's what we're doing here then I'm going to be running for the door. We'd be here all night." His laugh was just a little too bitter. Clearly there were layers under the monkey pajamas, and she was not quite able to talk herself out of her own curiosity.

[scaleshavefallen]

"Oh, good," I say, feeling actually, honestly relieved that the first new person I've met at this meeting isn't automatically expecting me to want to share my feelings. "I was a little worried that this was going to turn into group therapy, so we can talk about how being at the Nexus makes us feel." It's a little hard to keep my disdain for the process out of my voice. For someone as steeped in the psychoanalytic process as I have wound up being, I hate every second of it -- and now, with better reason than most, thanks to my recent experiences. "I don't want to talk about my feelings; I just want to find out where I can get pants that aren't covered in monkeys."

[legendthatwas]

"If I'm being honest with you, that doesn't strike me as Nick's sort of thing," said Martha. "Not to mention that, being English, I don't really do the talking about my feelings with strangers bit. Ever." She grinned wryly at Monkey Pajama Man to indicate that it was indeed a self-deprecating joke. Odd, though, that he was so against the feelings bit; Americans tended to splodge theirs all over the place, in her experience.

"But unfortunately, I can't really provide you with intel regarding your--" she nearly echoed pants, felt her cheeks heat, and instead gestured towards the clothing in question. "The only reason I've got anything is because I'd been on my way home from Oxford Circus."