On route home from a long walk recently, McScrooge and I decided to have a quick drink in a local pub's beer garden. Sitting across from us was another couple we hadn't seen for years. Gathering at a bench table for a quick catch-up, Ann, shortly after, took a pack of cigarettes from her bag, and the chat went something like this:
'' Is it okay to light up? ''
'' Sure,'' I replied, '' I never knew you smoked. ''
'' Well, I really only smoke when I'm out in company, not at work and never in the house.''
'' Oh, so you can go for days without a ciggie? ''
'' Sometimes weeks, '' she added.
'' Really?,'' I said, still kinda wondering what the point was.
'' I like a smoke about as much as I like a sweetie. Even if it's a sweetie I don't like - I'll hang on to it but eventually smoke it!''
There's a slight taste of Nabokov in that statement somewhere only I'm still trying to work it out!
