"Picture it: a dark Sunday night and the stormy sky is the murky color or an Irish stout. I’m sitting in my old red pickup truck in the parking lot of a church, trying to calm my nerves just a bit before I head in. I have heavy purple bags under my eyes and my beard, while still maintaining its normal burly magnificence is looking unkempt. This isn’t my first meeting, but it’s been a while since I’ve been to one and I’m nearly shaking I could use a fix so badly. The building looks like it’s abandoned, but a hazy yellow glow comes from the basement windows that surround the building’s perimeter."