Ciggies

The Contessa returns from the bathroom. Eyes very puffy. Declares, I am not going to cry anymore. Given mood swings of the past two days think this very optimistic. Says, I'm going to take up smoking instead. Tell her that think this very bad idea. It sounds self destructive. The Contessa replies, So, arms crossed on chest, in manner of 14-year-old. Tense moment broken up by arrival of Libby, who is beside herself with how Office Depot glue sticks she just received are defective. Says that she is going to write a Letter. Somehow makes this sound like she is going to personally go to the corporate headquarters and slit people's throats. Am very impressed. The Contessa says, It is just a (vulgar word)gluestick. Get over it. Libby sucks her teeth. She and the Contessa share murderous looks, but it is clear to everyone involved that The Contessa is the least stable of the two (today). When Libby leaves, the Contessa says, Well I'm going to go buy a pack of ciggies. Do you want one? For years, we took frequent cigarette breaks together in the courtyard. Invitation brings back semi-pleasant memories of Youth. But also brings back memories of feeling poisoned. Say, You know that smoking is self-destructive behavior, right? The Contessa replies, We are all going to die anyway. Which, though unarguably true, think very unhappily put. Decide to stay out of the Contessa's way for the rest of the afternoon.