I'm on a passive smoking binge. That means I want to smoke SO badly that I'll do anything to keep wanting to smoke. I suck the wind downstream of friends who exhale. I swear, to my own shame, that I had a tear stream down my cheek yesterday when I saw that the convenience station VERY near my house carries my brand of American Spirit -- the brown packs.
"Oh Oh Oh," I said to the cashier. "You've got my brand. Right here. Do you know that? Oh oh no."
"Which?"
"American Spirits, the brown, look at them above your head there, don't they look good?"
"Sure. $10 for the gas."
"I know but, do you know I used to smoke those? I quit a year ago, but that's my brand and I think I should get them."
I hand him the $10. He makes the register go cachunk and sticks the money in.
Then he looks at me. I'm thinking he wants to talk some more about my smoking days. Then I realize he's waiting for me to move out of the way so the guy behind me can pay for his gas.
Sometimes I just don't get people.
And DON'T come on here and tell me not to smoke, fucking shit I know I shouldn't smoke, what do you think that doesn't piss me off when you tell me that?
I love you.
