I am leaving for Chicago tomorrow for a weekend of resting, relaxing and shopping. I am driving, so of course I need good music, Diet Coke and cigarettes. Lots of cigarettes. I also need gas in the car.
I do not stop at a local gas station because I know what I am about to do. I fill up and go inside. I buy a carton of cigarettes. (My kids are in the car) I walk out. Carton of cigarettes BIG as day. There parked at the pump next to me is one of the moms from C.'s school. She's the mom that knows everyone, organizes everything and has special relationships with the teachers. I tried to hide the carton under my sweater. She'll never notice the rectangle shape coming out of my stomach. Think quickly, think quickly. I turn on my heels and head back in to the store to get a bag. She's right behind me. I'm busted.
I swallow my pride and smile pretty. Ask about her new baby and say that I gotta run, kids in the car, ya know. There holding a carton of cigarettes, wishing I had a 40oz of Old English to wash it down.
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