Every morning on my way to work I pass a smoking lady (a
women smoking, not “smokin’ hot”…she may be, idk, more on that later) on her
porch above the Mexican restaurant. It’s
dark so I see mostly a silhouette, but I see her every morning. When I see Smoking Lady, without fail, I
wonder what’s her story. Is she young? Old? What
does she do for a living? Why does she smoke so much? Is she stressed out? Why do I assume she smokes a lot? Maybe she’s a one and done each morning. Does she have breakfast before she smokes? Or maybe the cigarette IS her breakfast. Does she go to work smelling of smoke? Do her co-workers talk about the way she
smells? I’m assuming no on both of these
because she goes outside to smoke so she’s making an effort to avoid the smoky
smell. How did she come to live above
the Mexican restaurant? Does she like
it? Does her apartment smell like a chimichanga? I’m not judging, we all have our vices. If I lived above a Mexican restaurant I’d be
on my porch drinking margaritas…and probably smoking too. Oh well, here’s to you Smoking Lady! You are shrouded in mystery, a dark coat and a
cloud a smoke but your mere presence gives my brain a daily jumpstart. Happy Wednesday!
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