Page 243 - The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous
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                                     228            ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS
                                     every opportunity to lambaste that “spiritual angle,”
                                     as we called it, or anything else that had any tinge of
                                     theology. Much later I discovered the elders held
                                     many prayer meetings hoping to find a way to give
                                     me the heave-ho but at the same time stay tolerant
                                     and spiritual. They did not seem to be getting an
                                     answer, for here I was staying sober and selling lots
                                     of auto polish, on which they were making one thou­
                                     sand percent profit. So I rocked along my merry inde­
                                     pendent way until June, when I went out selling auto
                                     polish in New England. After a very good week, two
                                     of my customers took me to lunch on Saturday. We or­
                                     dered sandwiches, and one man said, “Three beers.” I
                                     let mine sit. After a bit, the other man said, “Three
                                     beers.” I let that sit too. Then it was my turn—I or­
                                     dered, “Three beers,” but this time it was different; I
                                     had a cash investment of thirty cents, and, on a ten-
                                     dollar-a-week salary, that’s a big thing. So I drank all
                                     three beers, one after the other, and said, “I’ll be see­
                                     ing you, boys,” and went around the corner for a bot­
                                     tle. I never saw either of them again.
                                       I had completely forgotten the January  8  when I
                                     found the Fellowship, and I spent the next four days
                                     wandering around New England half drunk, by which
                                     I mean I couldn’t get drunk and I couldn’t get sober. I
                                     tried to contact the boys in New York, but telegrams
                                     bounced right back, and when I finally got Hank on
                                     the telephone he fired me right then. This was when
                                     I really took my first good look at myself. My loneli­
                                     ness was worse than it had ever been before, for now
                                     even my own kind had turned against me. This time it
                                     really hurt, more than any hangover ever had. My
                                     brilliant agnosticism vanished, and I saw for the first
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