I knew a guy well who said he had just moved out of an alcohol ghetto. An interesting fellow alcoholic, he was newly sober. A bright guy, a delight to talk with. During the Vietnam War he had been booted out of the Army as a Major because of his drinking. I hadn't thought that was possible, to be honest. He had to have been bad.

He wound up working at a warehouse. Across the street was a boarding house and on the corner of that block was a small grocery store which mostly sold alcoholic beverages.

He said the warehouse would pay once a week, with small cash advances available for steady employees for a "bookkeeping" fee. The grocery store would cash his check for a fee, and he could pay the boarding house.

The boarding house had a large foyer and an outside porch where folks socialized. More than a few were workers at the same warehouse. He had no need to move beyond this area unless he purchased clothing and pocketbooks from one of the many thrift shops located several blocks away. He had a small TV in his room, a bed and a chair. He was fed breakfast and dinner, and a sack lunch during the week, and breakfast and dinner on weekends. There was access to a pay phone, he had no one to talk with.

He had no need to go any farther than to cross the street twice a day.

(The next chapter. He got sober, got a job driving a cab, bought his own cab, found Jesus, married a woman who also had found Jesus, and had a kid. I lost track of him after that.)