The story of my addiction:
During my honeymoon in Mexico, a man dressed all in black approached me at the swim-up bar at our hotel.
"How would you like to try this?" he asks, showing me his "stuff". "The first one is free."
Well, after a 3 day binge that cost me $450, I have my OW certification.
Fortunately, my wife forgave me

(after a not so small silver shopping spree!)
Apparently not realizing the extent of my addiction, she let me book our next vacation to Cozumel.

Silly woman. After 17 dives in 5 days, we barely spoke on the plane home. I swore never to do it again.
We are going to the Jersey Shore for the 4th of July with another couple. She doesn't know that the husband is also one of us. We've been quietly making dive inquiries.
I thought I heard her talking to the producers of "Intervention" the other night.
Oh the shame.