Saturday night, we were driving home from a friend's party when I decided, at 9:30 p.m., that I wanted a chopped salad from one of our neighborhood restaurants. Brian called in the order for me (I was driving) and we swung by to pick it up. I waited in front of the restaurant, parked in the designated carry out spot, while he ran in to get it. The parking spot happened to be right in front of the unofficial smokers' hangout, so I had the pleasure of watching all the tobacco enthusiasts puff away for about 15 minutes.
One middle-aged blonde amazed me with her sense of rhythm and determination to get every last ounce of nicotine out of her Marlboro Light. With her right arm folded across her ribcage and the other holding the cigarette, she functioned much like, what, an oil rig? Her right arm pumped with an almost hypnotic motion. She would inhale, exhale while swinging the left arm and hand down, ash, then swing it back up again for another drag. I watched her for at least twenty seconds, and it lulled me into a comfortable stare. I wondered if someone she was dining or drinking with inside the restaurant didn't know she smoked, because she was sort of leaning up against a wall away from the windows. Either that, or her dinner companions were really impatient and she, despite that, wanted to enjoy every last bit of her smoke. In short, she smoked the crap out of that cigarette.
I hope she found it fulfilling. I found it fascinating and disturbing at the same time.
The accompanying image, by the way, is just an excuse to put a picture of Aaron Eckhart on my blog.
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