What is a "typical" AA meeting like? Is there such a thing? A look in the AA "meeting book" for any large metropolitan area reveals a bewildering variety of meetings. A San Francisco meeting book from the early '90s, for example, lists meetings seven days a week with the first starting at 6 a.m. and the last starting at midnight; it lists beginners' meetings, step meetings, open meetings, closed meetings, speaker meetings, discussion meetings, candle­light meetings, women's meetings, lesbian and gay meetings, nonsmokers' meetings, writers' and artists' meetings, meetings for retired seamen, meetings conducted in Spanish?there are even meetings for atheists and agnostics.ⁱ

Meeting places range from church basements to library conference rooms to hotel lobbies to rented halls. Meeting sizes range from as few as three or four people up to several hundred at the larger weekend meetings. About all that can be said with reasonable certainty is that meetings last an hour to an hour and a half, and even that's not always the case. Still, certain features are common to virtually all AA meetings, and there are many other features which, while not universal, are typical.

If you were to go to a meeting you selected at random, it would probably go something like this:
 

It's ten minutes before meeting time as you walk through the front door of the AA hall, a large, dingy room reeking of stale tobacco smoke. You walk across the grimy linoleum floor to the coffee urn, pour yourself a cup of what appears to be used motor oil (rumor has it that the stuff will dissolve pencils), grab a couple of cookies, and wander over to one of the 40 or so folding metal chairs facing the table at the front of the room.

The meeting's secretary and the evening's speaker are already seated at the table, smoking cigarettes and slurping coffee. Other people, mostly casually dressed men in the 30s and 40s, are filing in, gradually filling the seats, and gradually filling the air with tobacco smoke. Perhaps half the chairs are taken when the meeting starts.
 

Precisely on the hour the secretary raps his gavel, introduces himself, and asks two pre-selected members to read the AA Preamble and the Serenity Prayer. Then, since it's a small meeting, everyone in the room introduces himself or herself and is then greeted by the crowd: "My name is Mike. I'm an alcoholic." "Hi Mike!" "My name is Bob. Alcoholic." "Hi Bob!" "Ed. Alcoholic." "Hi Ed!" . . . until everyone present has stated his or her name and muttered the magic word, "alcoholic." The secretary then asks any newcomers with less than 30 days sobriety to introduce themselves; he adds that this is only so that the rest of the members can get to know them. One hand timidly goes up in the back row and, after being prompted by the secretary, its owner introduces himself as "Tom"; everyone else loudly says, "Hi Tom," and applauds. The secretary next asks if there are any out-of­towners at the meeting. Since there are none, he goes on to ask if anyone has an anniversary (of months or years of sobriety) that day. No one does, so the secretary concludes by making his only announcement, that of an upcoming "clean and sober" dance at a local AA hangout.

The speaker rises, steps to the podium, introduces himself, and launches into a history of his alcoholism, describing at length and with apparent relish some of his more lurid drinking episodes. He pauses, lights a cigarette, and speaks of how he "bottomed out"?the degradation, humiliation, and hopelessness he felt when he finally realized what alcohol had done to him. He lights another cigarette and recounts how finally, in desperation, he hesitantly walked into an AA meeting despite fears about "the God stuff." After deeply inhaling a puff of tobacco smoke, he describes how his life has never been the same since that day. He kept coming to meetings, even though he still had doubts, because he was attracted to "something" the AA members had which he felt lacking in himself. He lights another cigarette and continues, saying that once he overcame his doubts, began to work the steps, and found his "Higher Power," his life has been transformed and that he literally owes his life to AA. He sits down to polite applause as his cigarette smoke curls upward toward the humming fluorescent lights.

By this time there are only 25 minutes left, and the secretary throws the meeting open to questions and discussion. A hand goes up in the front row and a nearly incoherent but boastful drunkalogue (a recitation of drunken escapades) ensues for ten minutes. Toward the end of it, the secretary passes the collection basket; most of those present chip in a buck or some pocket change. The next member to speak, who has been chafing at the bit during the drunkalogue, takes off on a tangent and describes how by working one of the steps he overcame his frustration after a car accident. One or two others take off on different tangents, and then it's time to end the meeting.

The secretary announces the fact and everyone rises, joins hands, and most say the Lord's Prayer. About a quarter, looking pained or disgusted, remain mute. After a moment of silence, everyone chants, "Keep coming back. It works!" And the meeting is over.

About half of those present leave immediately, while a few busy them­selves cleaning up the room, and the rest stand around drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, and chatting, two of them paying special attention to the newcomer. Finally, a half-hour after the meeting formally closed, the secretary ushers everyone out into the night.

Not all meetings are like this, however?just a majority. Other writers have described supportive meetings with friendly socializing in a cozy, club­like atmosphere.ⁱⁱ Such meetings probably exist in abundance, but in my estimation they're outnumbered by meetings of the type I've described here.

I should also point out that only those who blindly, and vocally, embrace the 12 steps are fully welcome at most meetings. Those who have doubts and those who have disagreements with AA dogma are normally ostracized if they express their opinions; and those who remain silent and sit on their doubts will normally be the objects of proselytization and dire warnings, and, if they continue to refuse to mouth accepted AA wisdom, will win, at best, grudging acceptance?if they're strong enough to stand up to the ridicule and condescension they're sure to encounter.

If doubters are fortunate, there will be an "agnostics" or "atheists" meeting in their city where they can commune with their fellow second-class citizens; but such meetings are normally found only in large cities such as San Francisco. In many, probably most, rural areas, small towns, and small cities, a majority of meetings are even more overtly religious than the one I've described here.