Just Another Bozo on the Bus

I was shaking inside and dismayed that showing up late wouldn't relieve me of having to talk to somebody. So I kept my eyes on the floor and sat down at the pushed-together tables where an odd assortment of strangers were chatting with one another. I felt nothing in common with them. They didn't seem to have much in common with one another. The restless, wild-eyed guy next to me introduced himself by first name and stuck out his hand. I followed suit, the practiced chameleon. Then my first AA meeting started. I was just curious. I'd come to see what there was to learn. I wanted to get my drinking under control, make it fun again, make it work the way it used to. Or something. I wasn't sure. The thing was, I wasn't alcoholic. Everyone else who spoke said they were, so I didn't want to let on.