First Rule of AA: Don't talk about AA

If you've never been to an AA meeting, read or watch Fight Club.
The 12 steps you work are a guide you must follow to succeed in sobriety. That's what the cult, I mean club tells you, every single time you go. For me there are different steps you must follow as well. The people of AA are not friendly, warm or welcoming like you may have seen on any Lifetime Original Movie, so get that right out of your head. These people have been through hell and you better believe it's worse than anything you've ever experienced! These are sad, lonely people who gravitate towards people just as miserable as them. The coffee flows freely, if you've been accepted, otherwise, bring your own.

Trying to find the right meeting to attend takes time. I've been going once a week for the past 5 months and still haven't found the meeting for me.
I started with a Wednesday 2:30 p.m. (Hope Group, they all have the word hope, home or study) because it's my day off and i was completely mislead by the name. The meeting takes place in an office suite next to the Circle K in a bad part of town. Three long plastic tables take up the middle of the room with chairs near the door. I chose a chair near the door in case I needed to get out fast. The place reeks of stale cigarettes even though the ceiling fan is cranked at top speed. Once in my chair, I look around the room and find the "Rules" of AA. The first rule is that members are allowed in the room from 15 minutes of the beginning of the first meeting (Dave's Worms* @5:45 a.m.) to 15 minutes after the last meeting of the day (simply called Meeting*). This basically means that if one so chooses, that person could spend 14 hours at this dank, smelly room. Lucky members! Non members are only welcome 15 minutes prior to each meeting and must promptly leave 15 minutes after each meeting. I know what you're thinking, "I want to hang out and drink coffee and smoke cigarettes with these fine folk all day! How do I become a member to this club?" The answer is: sorry,I don't know, I haven't been asked to join the club (insert sad face here).

The beginning of the meeting starts when the person leading it slams his fist on the table several times, practically making Mr. DT's spill his coffee and fall out of his chair. First up is the Serenity Prayer. Then said leader makes a couple people read the 12 traditions and the meaning/purpose of AA. Next comes the really fun part: sharing. Yes if you wish, you may state your name, followed by the famous line "...and I'm an alcoholic". The topics vary but don't worry, by the end of the meeting you will have forgotten what the topic even was. What I noticed about the Hope Group meeting is that the people seemed to know each other very well and talked about vacations where they visited their son, what they were making for dinner that night, what they were bringing to eat the following week and coffee, coffee, coffee. I sat in the back, silently listening and watching these strangers. It was if I was observing another culture or was an audience member of The View. Someone would get up throughout the meeting, make more coffee, empty ashtrays, and walk around with a basket filled with cups, sugar, creamer and the coffee pot. I took my cup of coffee, sipping it through the rest of the meeting. During the middle of an older lady complaining about her arthritis, the group leader's cell phone rang and he answered it. "Good news everyone, Melissa had her baby and she named her Hope. Named her after this group's name!" People really went nuts over that. Me, I'm not sure I would be too keen on telling the story of my daughter's name. "No, she's not named after my grandmother, I named her after my favorite AA group!"
Alcohol was not brought up even one time, except when Betty Jo would announce her name, say the line, then complain about her overbearing daughter in law who doesn't know spit about raising kids. At the end of the meeting, we all stood in a circle, holding hands and recited the Lord's Prayer, followed by a hearty "STAY!" at the closing. I got the hell out of that place, vowing to never return.

Unfortunately I am "required" by the State to attend these meetings so I set off to find one more "me". Next was the Sunday Night Meeting. The first Sunday night, I walked in the room at 6:58 p.m., cursing myself I'd gotten there early*. There were 5 other people in the room. I felt pressured and moved up one aisle in my chair so i was closer to the table but still close enough for the door. 3 people sat at the large table and 1 man sat in a chair near the small kitchen. The room was hazy from smoke and nobody said hi to me as I waited an eternity for the meeting to start. The group leader was a middle aged man with a gray beard. "Beard Man", as i shall call him (it's Alcoholics ANONYMOUS!!) pounded his fist on the table and began the meeting the usual way. He had about a dozen coffee stirrers laid out on the table in front of him, a small styrofoam cup of coffee and the Big Book (AA manual which is referenced several times and should be memorized immediately following your first meeting). After the reading was concluded, Beard Man, asked someone to come up with a topic for discussion. Not one person said a word, and I began to sweat, panicking and itching to get out of the room. This was the last meeting of the week and i was "obligated" to stay. I cursed myself once again for my constant procrastination. If I had only gone to the Saturday "One Hope, One Love" meeting. Finally, after about 3 minutes of silence, Beard Man, started speaking about gratitude. He finished this long story about something I wish I could remember. He had a lazy way of speaking and it was difficult to follow along. He sat back in his chair, hands behind his head with his eyes closed chewing on a coffee stirrer. There were times when I wasn't sure he was awake. He called on the man to his left to speak next. My heart starting beating faster, heat rising to my face as i realized the horrible situation: like it or not, I was going to have to speak. I immediately started running what I would say in my head. Thinking it sounded alright but knowing it wouldn't come out that way when it was my turn. I began praying the 2 men before me would speak for 20 minutes each, that way, I wouldn't have time to share. It never works out that way though. about 10 minutes later, I was pointed to and told "you, talk".
Where to start, I began talking about gratitude, how I was grateful to be there and grateful to have others there with me. I think I used some variation of gratitude a dozen times in 2 minutes. I ran my words together without stopping for a breath. In short, it was terrible. I vowed to never come back to the Sunday night meeting that would certainly make me open up and speak every time.

The next Sunday, I walked through the door and found my seat. Once again, I had waited the whole week, putting off a meeting each day with new found excuses. And here I was, back in the meeting that made me talk. There were more people this time and I hoped each one would speak, taking the pressure off me. Beard man was dozing off again so a man at the front of the table pointed to me and said "You, I want to hear you share". Ugh, I'm not sure what I said, everything was a blur but I bet it was really profound, because Beard Man seemed to wake up a little. I think it was just to replace one gnawed on coffee stirrer with a new one, but I'll take that as a victory! After my share, the man who always sat in the chair near the kitchen began to speak. There was 20 minutes left in the meeting and he began to talk about his days as a corporate type, never revealing what exactly he meant by the term. He talked about his mom, his scooter, his run ins with the law. On and on he talked only pausing longing enough to light another cigarette. He was still talking when I happened to glance at the clock and saw the meeting had ran over by 10 minutes and poor Beard Man was drooling on the table. I'm not too sure what happened next. Maybe "Wishbone"* had seen me look at the clock, perhaps he saw someone else look at the clock, but he abruptly stopped mid sentence to announce the meeting was over and he couldn't believe people had the nerve to interrupt his story. Everyone looked around at each other, glassy eyed and confused. Beard man asked if Wishbone wanted to finish. Wishbone muttered some words about not knowing how to run a proper meeting then gruffly said no, he wouldn't speak another word. We stood, forming the circle and I offered him my hand. He looked at me coldly replying with a no. After the prayer, I overheard Beard Man trying to soothe Wishbone. But Wishbone was having none of that and gave me a dirty look as I left.
Now at this point, I should have changed meetings, but I still wasn't sure it was me that ole' Wishbone was mad at, so I went back.

Pulling up to the parking lot I hoped not to see the blue scooter parked at the door, but there it was. Oh well, I had to go so I walked in. Wishbone was in his usual place with about 3 empty chairs around him all covered with the essentials. On one chair was an astray, cigarettes, lighter and the small styrofoam cup of coffee. The second chair was covered with several sections of the newspaper. The third chair had 2 plastic tupperware containers with a salad in one and cut up cantaloupe in the other. There was a half empty bottle of Wishbone brand Italian dressing and a fork. Throughout the meeting, Wishbone ate salad and smoked cigarettes simultaneously shooting dirty looks my direction. Well, at least I think he was. By now, I had developed a strange plot line in my head. Wishbone did not like me because I looked at the clock while he was speaking. Got it. The guy thought I was being rude by not being so absorbed in his words, that I dared looked to see what time it was. I was convinced he hated me. He did not share any stories but kept speaking to a young skittish man who looked terrified he was sitting next to a man who was eating salad and talking about how screwed up his life had been before joining the glorious club of AA. I thought it was odd that Wishbone refused to be involved in group discussion and no problem with speaking to this man when others were sharing. It was rude as far as I was concerned and I shot ole' Wishbone a few dirty looks of my own.

After a half dozen of these Sunday meetings, I knew I had to get out of there. The people were miserable and one whole meeting was devoted to 2 people complaining about the "leeches" of AA who only came for the free coffee and to bum money, rides and smokes from others. These people were serious about there cigarettes. Do not, under any circumstance, ask someone at AA for a cigarette. They might smile and hand one over, but know that at the next meeting they go to, they'll be sitting around complaining about you and plotting ways to get you removed from their club.
I started going to the Monday night meeting because it was earlier in the evening and happened to fall on my "Friday" from work. On the AA meeting schedule, the Monday night is listed simply as "meeting". I was relieved it didn't have the word hope, gratitude, or love in the title. Once I walked in, I felt a little better. It was packed! I breathed a sigh of relief looking around the room, there were so many people I wouldn't be chosen to speak. I took a seat in the back right before the banging on the table began. That's when i realized everyone had a book in front of them. Uh oh. What was this? I had no book, it didn't say anything about bringing a book. I began to panic for the millionth time since coming to this crazy place. It was a step study meeting, and I had not been prepared at all for this. I hate going somewhere when I'm not prepared. Tell me in advance and I'll buy the book, highlight, make notes and be ready for an in depth essay question exam. But don't tell me, and I look like a frenzied maniac, eyes wide and looking all over the room hoping there wont be some sort of test on the subject.

Sunday night, here I come. And this time, I'll be wearing a wristwatch.