Bellevue “Green House” MICA Unit, 7pm, NYC

MICA stands for Mentally Impaired, Chemically Addicted, and it was in that unit that I sat with a friend of mine, surrounded by people who, for the most part, had to be there. Some were on parole. Some were on probation. Some were simply not allowed to leave the building or they’d be thrown permanently back on the streets. And some of them were there because they wanted to be there.

It was an AA meeting, and I told my story.

Admittedly, there’s a bit of intimidation here. Before arriving at the unit, I was thinking “Oh, boy. I don’t know how these guys are going to relate to an upper-middle class white guy like me.” But I also knew that this was bullshit. The one thing about alcoholism is that it treats everyone equally. Once he drinks, an alcoholic cannot stop. Period. No matter what the circumstance, we have that in common.

And that is huge.

After going through the metal detectors, signing in with the Police, and taking a truly scary elevator upstairs, I entered the meeting. I introduced myself to some of the men. Then, as the opening passages were being read, I said a little prayer. I was introduced.

The first thing I said was: “My name’s Rich, I’m an alcoholic, and I am the luckiest person alive.”

The last thing I said was: “We bow before no one.”

I said about 20 minutes of other stuff in between.

I left the meeting feeling lucky, happy, and grateful. There are dudes in there who aren’t going to make it. But there are dudes in there who are. Talking to them was a trip, precisely because of how much we have in common.

Love to all. Even you, the guy in the blue Audi.