Big Al sat fingering the cigarette he had wormed out of his impoverished senior workmate. He smiled at it. The early morning breeze billowed the machine shop blind and a glimpse of a shapely nurse faded amid the shrubs outside.
“Damn” he muttered. “How am I supposed to have lude thoughts about these nymphs, if I don’t get a proper look at them?”
He slumped back into his favourite smoking chair and contemplated the prospect of another day and the internal interplay between himself and those who would move about him in the hours to come.
He sat musing. Would he say this to him? If she didn’t interfere, was there a chance that those two might not do that, if such and such was said? What if those three could get together and agree not to say this to her anymore? What would be the affect if…?
He glanced down at the cigarette again and wondered what it was like to have to actually pay for the enjoyment of smoking.
The day passed much like any other.
Just then, his boss, a friendly, if out of pocket figure appeared in the doorway.
“If you’re staying on a bit mate, pull the door to when you go. Good night” he said, and shuffled off whistling something by Mozart. Al thought… happy enough fellow considering he had nothing to smoke on the way home.
Big Al looked at his watch, it was ten to six.
A door banged shut, more whistling, fading.
The cigarette was lit. He was cutting down. He took a long satisfying puff.
Big Al has wormed his way through another day, with minimal interruption.
Reminds me of an old boss I had!