When he left he went outside into the snow, the crispy air, and watched his breath expand and disappear. The cold air on his lungs felt clean, he was glad to get out of the room full of second-hand smoke, and away from all the loathing alcoholics who were lighting up. Bellowing on about their problems. He was one of them, he had to admit. But every man has a snapping off, where he can’t stand to listen to another man’s problems. Every man has to fend for himself.

He was a little bit drunk when he showed up for the meeting that night. When he left he got into his car and turned on the engine to warm up. For a while he sat there with the radio on listening to classical music. Any noise to drown out the vibrations going on all around him. He needed to get some thinking done. He was waiting for the meeting to get out because he wanted to talk to Barbara. She was the only reason he came to these things anyway. He liked her and thought that coming to the group was a good way to make it seem like he was a decent fellow. As good as any.

When the meeting was done and all the alcoholics came outside and got into their cars, he opened the door for Barbara and she got into the passenger seat. He drove out of the parking lot to take her home. When they were halfway home she started to ask him why he had left in the middle of the meeting. He said he couldn’t stand listening to winos trying to sort out their problems any longer. She was offended by this and didn’t talk to him for the rest of the ride.

When he got to her house, she said goodnight cordially. He said he was sorry about what he had said, and that he respected her for trying to turn her life into something worthwhile. And then he kissed her on the cheek, like he had done the night before, and she put her hand on his forehead, brushing back his hair, and got out of the car. He watched her go inside, saw her son watching television in the living room with the light on. Saw her kiss her little boy on the forehead with the same lips she had used just a moment earlier. He thought about his own mother right then, thought about how she used to run her nails over his neck gently and how good it used to feel. He wanted this woman to be his wife, he wanted her fingernails on his neck, gently and motherly. He wanted to cook dinner for her, but he knew it was a long shot. He could have a short romance with this woman if he wanted, but he knew it would never last. She was an alcoholic after all, a wino just like the rest of them. The classical music was still playing on the radio, but he didn’t notice, just like no one had noticed him when he got up and left the group. They were all too busy thinking about their own problems.

He left her house and stopped at the bank to deposit a pay check he had gotten earlier that day. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and as he thought about Barbara, he knew it was the only thing he really had going for himself.