“I’m quitting smoking,” my co-worker, Archie, announced as we were taking a cigarette break outside the Duane Reade below our office.
“Wow,” I said, as I took a drag. “What brought this on?”
Archie had always said he loved smoking too much to ever stop. “It’s my only vice!” he’d exclaim. Of course, I knew this not to be true.
He rolled his eyes. “Chad says he won’t pay for my plastic surgery if I don’t quit.”
Chad is Archie’s much older, kind and quite distinguished boyfriend. He lives a very healthy lifestyle and doesn’t smoke or drink but always lets the rest of us run around his penthouse and play Flip Cup on his marble dining-room table. I was pretty sure this plastic surgery nonsense was not Chad’s idea.
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