On Sunday, March 14th, 2020 the North Brooklyn AA group I attended most nights at 10 p.m. switched from in-person to Zoom. Everything started off innocuous enough, with only a handful of bumps: we were still using Zoom’s free option, so at 40 minutes everyone was kicked off and had to sign back in. Nobody knew about muting their microphone. But as people got acclimated, an air of familiarity descended on the meeting. This was disrupted when a woman, close to tears, announced that someone had sent her a private message, saying they hoped she relapsed.
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