Alcoholics Anonymous

One: Fired

"You come in late, with hangovers." He said, rubbing his temples.

I exhaled loudly. "So I'm fired." I gave my boss a dull look.

Mr. Peters nodded. "Sorry, Hayden. I know this job meant a lot to you-"

"It's fine. I'll find another." I couldn't. "Thanks." I stood up with haste and yanked my suit jacket on. My tie slipped down below my messy buttoning job. My hair stuck out in a drunken state of disarray.

"Hayden," Mr. Peters added, standing up from his desk, "I think you need to settle down, find a nice girl, and start your life over. Here, I picked this up for you." He handed me a small, white card.

I took it and squinted at the text. My vision was a bit fuzzy. "Alcoholics Anonymous? A support group." I said.

He nodded.

I swallowed twice to get what was left of my last swig into the back of my throat. "I'll think about it."

"Wonderful."

Not really.