Character Development
Fiction by Christian David Loeffler
The first time I met Don Knotts was at a Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous meeting. He was different than I saw him on The Andy Griffith Show or Three’s Company. He was not the local deputy or the ever-present landlord. He was barely a man. Instead of quirky smiles and exaggerated expressions of shock, his eyes were lost. They looked off at the wall like the wall was the television screen he once hid behind. He looked like he wanted to hide behind it again.
“Don?”
Nothing.
It felt wrong to call him Don. He was the Don Knotts. He was an icon. To say half his name was almost demoralizing; it was like granting him only half of his identity. But that’s what it is like here. We are all halves.
“Barney Fife?” the meeting host asked again.
To that the man responded. Well, I think that is what he responded to. After a while, it gets harder and harder to tell who we really are. To tell what is an act and what is real. Don Knotts. Actor. Barney Fife. Television deputy. Both. Sex addicts.
Barney began to read off the SLAA Preamble. Sometimes we started with this for new members, but there were no new members today. Directly across from me was today’s meeting host, Mr. McFeely. Next to him, Uncle Leo. On both sides of me, Reverend Camden and Niles the Butler. There are others, and the people are always changing, but you get the idea. We are all of a certain type. We are the ones you grow to recognize. The ones you think are sources of happiness. Of comfort. Of personal fulfillment. We are also the ones who are often forgotten the most.
“Thank you all for coming. Who wants to read the steps?” McFeely looks around desperately.
“I can take them,” Wilson says. The guy always had his face buried in the program sheets, but I guess someone needs to have initiative.
SLAA is supposed to help. It is supposed to be support for those of us who cannot form healthy relationships, whether sexually or on a more fundamental level. For those of us who have become the friendly side characters in a world of normal people. But looking around a room of dispirited men reading off sheets of paper about self-control can make that easy to forget.
When I first came to SLAA, I was surprised to see so many local heroes. Faces I recognized. To share an experience with those who are wiser and more talented than you makes you feel like you aren’t so off in the head. You appreciate that even Uncle Joey takes a break from doing voice impersonations now and then. And you think this for a while. You think this until everyone starts talking.
“Okay, who wants to start us off tonight?”
Uncle Leo raises his hand. It is a bit shaky. When you come to these things, you can’t help but wonder if it is arthritis or a recently-triggered hand cramp.
“Leo,” Mr. McFeely throws his head down.
“My name is Leo and I am a Sex Addict.”
“Hi, Leo,” the crowd chants.
“I just wanted to share that I have been making progress. I have been working on spending more time with my family.” He starts to smile and tear up. “Trying to play a bigger role.”
A lot of the comments were like this. Vague. The people here were friendly, but you could tell that they were not comfortable with themselves. That they were out of character just be being here. That being here was an admittance of losing the ideals we represent.
“Who wants to go next?” McFeely sings.
It made sense though. There is already a Sex Addicts Anonymous. SLAA a bit different. It runs deeper. Being here is not just a matter of addiction and habit. Coming to an SLAA meeting is an admittance of moral corruption. It is a recognition that not only habits are wrong, but that we are failing to hold up to our ideals. That our television personas have become our role models and that we have become their shadows.
I raise my hand.
In truth, we are good people who have just come to recognize our deeper emotional issues. We have ascended beyond those one-dimensional characters who put on a fake smile and say knee-slapping lines to bring couch potatoes comfort at the end of a long workday. We have risen to the challenge of overcoming. We are on the path to enlightenment. Well, that’s my take at least.
“Sure, go ahead, Mr. Cosby.”
I take a deep breath.
Christian David Loeffler is a fiction writer and teacher; he is also an editor for Curious Curls Publishing. Loeffler's teaching and writing are heavily influenced by interests ranging from science, literature, and philosophy to video games and anime. His favorite book is J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye, and he will not stop talking about it.