From Hell to Hope

It was another night at the bar with one of my favorite drinking partners, Mary. We'd been drinking since we left the office and were feeling no pain. Mary and I loved to drink together, and did so on a regular basis, which was easy in San Francisco since there were so many places to do just that. She occasionally indulged in using cocaine, a drug I'd been very addicted to but had recently given up. I was only drinking at that time and was trying desperately to hold onto the thought that it really wasn't a problem for me. Anyhow, Mary told me that a supply of cocaine was en route to the bar and I'd better get out of there. She pointed out a man sitting at the bar and told me he was the bartender's brother and that he would drive me home. That was fine by me.