Convenience Store Chronicles (smoking asthmatic)
Ok, so this guy comes into the store just now to buy a fountain drink, and "Oh yeah, a pack of Marlboro lights in a box," he adds, clutching his wallet in one hand--and his INHALER in the other.
I can't abstain from giving him shit.
"Is that your inhaler?" I ask.
He blushes deeply, which I can see even though he's Indian or Pakistani with a very dark complexion, and mumbles, "Uh, yeah."
"You have asthma?" I ask as I ring up his cigarettes. I'm actually sort of laughing out loud. I can't help it. This is too funny. I'm sure lots of people who buy cigarettes from me have asthma, it's just that most of them don't carry their inhaler into the store to buy their cigarettes.
He coughs a little and says "Yeah," so softly I can barely hear him. "You're not supposed to see that," he says, referring to the inhaler.
"And these are for you?" I can't seem to stop myself from giving him a hard time.
He's getting a little annoyed now, but he's going along with it good-naturedly. "Yeah, they're mine."
"What does your doctor say about this?" I ask. He doesn't answer.
At this point I feel compelled to say something to bridge the gap and make amends. I mean, this is a paying customer, and he's obviously addicted to this product that is further damaging his lungs. He can't quit even though he knows it's killing his respiratory system. So I lamely say, "Well, I have it too, and I know what those do to MY lungs." Blah blah blah. It doesn't help. He's smiling, a small, tight, forced smile, but doesn't say anything else.
This strikes me as just further hilariousness, and I'm on the verge of cracking up again. I bite my lip and gave him his change. He hurries out the door, and I smile and wave at him through the window.
Hey, at least he's not six months pregnant, swearing he's buying Camel filters for his boyfriend. (That lady will probably be in later tonight.)