Half-high @ an OA Meeting

My family comes from a long line of "shit alcoholics," so when someone suggested I go to an OA meeting, I got buck as fuck. I've always wanted to have alot of stranger's pay mad attention to me, (hence my oft-disturbing habit of faking seizures on subways).
(insert pictures of chix pizzing themselves here.)
I roll up on the shit, blazed out of my mind. Stumble through ball-scorching one-hundred degree heat. And when someone asks me if I'm the one who has the shitty little key that opens the cock-suck little trailer we talk about being fat in, I overshoot my pockets, gesture towards my crotch and say "Sorry, got a whole lot jangling around in here, but no key." Needless to say, I got my chubby little knob sawed.
The meeting on the whole was really cool. Alot of people voiced thought's and feelings that I myself had shared, and honestly felt I was alone in.  I really started to empathize with those around, not just because of the crisp nugs I had toked, but also out of caring and compassion.  In summation, my first OA meeting was totally, indescribably, damn near ineffably gay. It was kind of like X. Sure, you feel good and you're holding hands, but if you look like some drooling psuedo-wiccan who won't shut the fuck up about "Him, our Lord and Savior" then what's the fucking point?

PS If twelve morbidly obese people leave a Methodist church at 8 pm, it's not exactly anonymous, now is it?