Ernest had decided that he was going to attend the meeting almost immediately upon reading the posted, but as the day and time rolled around he found himself strange anxious about it. He'd stopped drinking before - although that was ten years ago now - and he knew that it was a problem. Whether or not he was actually willing to give up his coping mechanism? He wasn't so certain.
But hell, he could go to one meeting. They weren't going to force him to do anything he wasn't ready to do. And he had a sneaking suspicion that he knew exactly who was behind the posters.
So, he slipped in a little late, quietly, in case he was interrupting something.