Tom and I got ready to drive into the city for the Printer’s Row Literary Festival where I’d post pictures and interviews from the Kabbalah Center’s bookstall on social media. As we were leaving, Serena texted and asked me to swing by a recovery meeting to okay fliers that Tony Bling-Bling printed promoting me as a speaker at one of his upcoming meetings. Uncomfortable about the fliers, I told her I couldn’t and asked Serena to get Bling-Bling to email me a copy of them. When Tom and I got home from the festival, Bling-Bling called saying he couldn’t email me the fliers.
“I’ll meet you at a meeting tomorrow and look at them,” I told him. “What do they say?”
“I copied the cover of your book, put some quotes on it, and said you were speaking. They’re out on the counter. I hung some up and left some for the women’s meetings.”
“You distributed them already?”
“Yeah, they’re out. We need to get attendance up at that Sunday meeting.”
“You should have shown me first,” I said angrily and hung up.
I didn’t want Bling Bling promoting my book at recovery meetings. People don’t showcase their endeavors there. It wasn’t cool. Playboy Pete started that meeting years ago and used to deliver what amounted to a comedy act before presenting each week’s speaker. He’d drawn large crowds and the collection baskets brimmed with much-needed money. But Playboy Pete was recently asked to step down because he offended women with his dicey jokes and sexual innuendos. Bling-Bling had taken it over and attendance had dropped. Bling-Bling’s ego took a hit, and now he’s put me in a bad spot.