Smoke

Wednesday the twenty third I think around 6:30 a.m. I wake up. It’s time for work. I get dressed and eat a bowl of captain crunch for breakfast. No milk so I use powdered and water. Possibly the most disgusting thing I’ve ever eaten. I put on the cleanest looking pair of pants I can find. I’ll wear the same shirt as yesterday. I spray myself down with ax and aftershave. I smell clean. I look clean. That means I’m clean. I head for the door. Almost forgot my smokes. Cheapies, but I like the sweet flavor. I light up and head out.1

I leave my apartment building, and I head for the subway. Walking pretty slowly today, but I left early so it’s fine. It’s a nice day too birds singing, homeless begging, there’s a crazy naked cowboy preaching about his alabaster bullfrog from the top of a lamppost. Yes indeed life is good. I give a homeless guy a twenty I can spare it, I’m a firm believer in karmic retribution. I may not get anything back, but maybe he had it coming and I’m just a tool of the universe. It would be cool if that were true, but in reality all that happened is I just gave a poor guy a break and I feel good about it. 2

My last smoke I need to stop off and buy another pack. Maybe I’ll get a cigar. Some cigars taste like cinnamon. Oh how I enjoy cinnamon. Don’t even inhale I just like the taste. Just barely missed a huge pile of dog crap. We have laws here. People are saposed to pick that kind of thing up. I won’t but somebody needs to. It’s still a wonderful day though. My last cigarette is gone now. I need to get some before work.3

I work at a fast-mart I never shop there though. It’s too expensive. Actually a pack of cigarettes is only three cents more expensive but other things are way higher. In truth I sometimes tell people to go to the other store down the street. A little way to feel like I’m making the boss’s life worse than it has to be. He’s not really a bad guy. It’s just he’s my boss, and in New York you always hate your boss. It’s a rule I think. Hate your boss and steal gum. I do plenty of both. I also ogle his wife… A lot.4

Here’s the store. A quick stop, now that’s a store. They have a slurpee machine. Oh I wish I had a slurpee machine. I once tried to buy one. It was three thousand dollars. I didn’t get it of coarse. I was thinking about stealing one, but I’m too lazy. I told some guys about wanting it, and I’m getting one for five hundred from somewhere in Maryland. Of coarse I can’t show it off in police stations ha, but it’ll be great to have. I’ll use it once and never turn it off. There’s always somebody wanting some slurpee. I’ll sell them for a dollar a gallon and make a thirty-cent profit. It’ll pay for itself. Almost forgot about the smokes.5

I walk in and look around. I pick up a mountain dew and some skittles. I walk up to the counter get smokes and pay. He didn’t even card me, he was watching T.V. for all he knows I could be a hairy twelve year old. As I’m leaving I get a glimpse of what’s on the monitor on his counter, the pervert. As I get around the corner I finish my dew and skittles then pull twenty dollars of beef jerky out of my pants. I’m not poor or hungry. I just don’t like to pay for jerky. It’s a bit of a phobia, but more of just a thing I do to not spend money. It’s almost eight now. I need to get to the subway.6

Outside the subway station there’s a guy sleeping in a box. I slip in about fifteen sticks of jerky. He’ll like that. I get to the terminal and get my tokens. The machine takes quarters. I’ve traveled approximately eleven thousand miles with one drilled quarter. Life is good. I see a pregnant woman and sit next to her. She put her hand on my leg so I changed cars. I then sit across from a rather buxom woman. Life is good. Turns out she’s a feminist and I’m swine. Still yet life is good. I change cars again. This time the car is full of men and the rest of the ride is incident free.7

When I get off the train the pregnant woman tries to catch up to me. I run because I’ve never seen her before, and then run faster because I might have. Incident avoided and I’m safely ten blocks away. She can’t get me now. Life is good. Time for a smoke. I’m downtown now. There are quite a few big businesses here. I like the smell of capitalism in the morning. It’s like human souls and money. What a way to look at things. I’m pretty screwed up. 8

As I’m walking through a crowd to work a truth protester sees me smoking. I hate the truth people so much. I want them all to die slow lingering painful deaths. I don’t have the time today though I have work. Oh god here he comes. “Tobacco companies are killing you and me slowly. Cough cough hack hack you can take you smog back” he’s chanting, as long as he doesn’t do anything I can ignore him and go on. He has a small quirt bottle. He looks me in the face and recites like the drone he is “ smoke is killing me as well as you put out that death stick”. If he didn’t want my smoke in his face he wouldn’t come so close so I give him some. He coughs; his poor little lungs can’t handle big bad Mexican tobacco. “Tobacco kills and tobacco is destroying the world,” he’s screaming now almost in tears. “What ever, at least what I’m smoking is legal” I reply while trying to weave out of the crowd, he didn’t like that. 9

I see what the squirt bottle is for. “You put out my cigarette you prick I paid good money for that” he seems satisfied with himself. “That’ll teach you to harm my mother earth”. I wanted them all to die slow horrible deaths, but beating this one senseless will make me feel almost as good. Not quite the smartest thing I’ve ever done.10

There were three hundred and some odd protesters. All chasing me down back alleys, through yards, and over what I think were a couple of college students experimenting in the bushes. It’s a good day. I made it to work on time, just barely though. I think I’ll work a double shift today. Wait until the crazies go home. 11

BY KEVIN WIGGINS12