Went to Group Substance Abuse after work. Checked in. Paid the co-pay. Pissed in the cup. Sat back down. The coordinator came in and sat down. Waited for all to arrive. I got this down.
Once everyone arrived, a second counselor came in the room. He was an older guy, maybe in his 50s, and he carried with him a magic book. I’ll call him Ray. We went around the room and gave a brief chat on how we were feeling, any threats to sobriety, and if we felt any cravings. Some guys (at this point it was all men) would take about work, some about their families, some about the women in the lives. Then, Ray would take out his Magic Book. He’d hand it to one of us at random and have us read a small selection. Invariably, the selection matched what the guy had talked about in the round robin.
How did Ray do it? Did he know the book so well he could pick the right page? It looked random, but it couldn’t have been; it was too perfect. It never failed. No, I can’t give an example. How could I? I can’t duplicate magic!
It was magic. And we needed it.
Shocked in the Suburbs 