I saw Dr. Laney come into the conference room out of the corner of my eye. He took a seat in the back and nodded at me when I looked his way. He had a rag wool sweater and a black pea coat – a hip counselor’s disguise. We had talked about how this was unusual, a boundary that he wouldn’t usually cross with his clients. I hadn’t told him about what I’d plan to speak about though.

“My fellow Toastmasters, honored guests,” I said and then began to shake as I felt the collection of weapons inside the plastic bag. (My mind raced: These people didn’t know me from Adam – why should I reveal intimate, embarrassing, painfully low points in my life? Maybe if they were my friends or family – maybe if there was some greater purpose. But who were they? It wasn’t their fucking business what happened to me. They’d just as soon sit through a soliloquy on cat food for Christ sake! They’d just as soon be singing “Silent Night” in German!)

“I’m afraid I’m going to keep this speech extremely brief,” I said. “About eleven more seconds, actually. I – uh, think I need to regroup or something. But I want to especially thank an honored guest in the back for coming all this way to attend.”

Then everyone turned around and looked at Dr. Laney, who started clapping awkwardly until a few others joined in. I quickly shook the hand of the head Toastmaster who had suddenly appeared before me at the podium – the show must go on, I guess. I took the collection of razors, knives, cigars and Marlboro Lights and walked over to the trash and threw everything out. I saved the gold medal from my brother for another time. Then, I got my coat, shook a few people’s hands and exited the conference room quickly. There was a maintenance man waxing the floors of City Hall with a hulking machine and it groaned and hummed as I walked past him.