a vice is a vice is a vice is a vice

There was a scattering of people in our company outside. A light blanket of rain fell on us as we smoked. It was nothing compared to the downpour I had been caught in earlier, so I shrugged it off.

“There’s nothing better than smoking cigarettes in the city,” I said as I exhaled, smoke escaping from my lips into the moist night air. I watched the red-hot end of my cigarette burn down the white paper, and wondered how I could gain so much satisfaction from knowingly consuming something poisonous.

“Especially when drinking,” Sarah added, flicking the ash from the end of her cigarette.

I was silent for a moment, continuing to contemplate my vice. I shook my head, redirecting my attention on the present. “Natasha often tells me I’m a consumer, and she’s completely right. I love smoking, drinking, eating, shopping, all of it.” I paused and took a deep drag. “And the city is entirely based around consumption and the need to serve and be served. To stake your claim. I think that’s why I feel so at ease here. I feel so much more in my element, with all the resources I could ever need to fulfill my desires at my very fingertips.”

Sarah merely nodded and crushed out her cigarette under her foot.

“I wonder if they’re still doing these three dollar Buds,” I think aloud, gesturing at the chalkboard next to me.

“Let’s hope, because there’s no way in hell I’m paying another ten bucks for a drink.”

S.A.D. (2006)
(Yes, those really are my initials.)