When I drink I've got a manager.

There was a guy in Southie named appropriately Bill W. who always seems to be the chairman of a particular meeting there on Saturday mornings.  Its a real good meeting, and Bill W. is a real good talker.  Often my sponsor and I would get up early on Saturday morning, we'd have breakfast someplace in Brighton like the Pig'n Whistle or Joanna's or we'd grab a muffin downtown, hit Filene's Basement for the day's bargain and then go to the meeting.

Bill takes pretty good care of himself now, new teeth and last time I saw him he had some lizard skin shoes and a really nice watch.  That day it was raining and Bill said it was good to be clean and dry instead of in the doorway of some empty or stemming quarters on D Street for a pint of white port.  Everybody within hearing agrees and even though I haven't done that yet I know that I'm eligible to do it if I pick up a drink or a drug again.

Bill often talks about the things he has done.  He talks about the fact that he didn't want to do those things.  When he was little he wanted to be like Ted Williams or maybe Mayor Curley or have a nice house.  He didn't want to hurt people, or spend time in MCI Bridgewater, "Bridgie" or "the farm," or rob some guy for the price of a drink.  But he said, "Yah know when I picked up a drink I had a manager.  The drink told me what to do."

Often I thought I did what I did because I wanted to.  Bill W. and many other helped me to see that alcohol and other drugs made all the decisions for me.  Booze decided where I went, what time I got up, how I felt, and when I would sleep, more accurately lose consciousness.  Today I "don't got" a manager and for that I am grateful.