The Big Easy Does It

Last week I walked into a room full of strangers, ready to lead an AA Treatment and Corrections meeting. At a ripe 19 years of age my baby face, cut-off jean shorts and backpack full of books stuck out like sore thumbs among the faces of more “seasoned” alcoholics, some of whom drank longer than I had been alive. As I passed out the readings, I handed the Preamble to a woman who bluntly blurted, “How old are you? You look too young to even be in AA!”