Eight

Eight years ago I heard something in an AA meeting.

I was there to make sure a friend of mine didn’t bail on the meeting. SHE was fucked up. SHE needed help. I was a tourist. I had been to meetings but, shit, I’d been to math classes too but I wasn’t a fucking mathematician.

AA was the last place on earth I wanted to be. I don’t believe in God. I don’t like being in churches. I didn’t believe I needed help. I didn’t really believe I was an alcoholic or...