As Randy & I headed out to a "secret" concert on Tuesday, we had to make a stop to pick up the tickets from Randy's friends. We show up as said friend's house. We walk in. Introductions are made. Friend heads over to kitchen to get said tickets. And as we are being handed the tickets, I notice that there is an old man sitting at the dining room table, silently smoking a cigarette. You literally could hear the tobacco catching fire as he inhaled. I said nothing, as these are not my friends, but Randy's friends, and perhaps this is a common occurrence in these parts.
I notice that they are watching Arrested Development, one of the best shows that ever had a season on television. I chat up Randy's friends in regards to this, and we depart.
I say nothing of the Cigarette Smoking Man.
As we drive away, stealthily into the night to the "secret" concert, Randy asks: "Who do you think that old man was?" I laugh, nervously, because I don't know if maybe we've been bugged by some secret conspiratorial government who hired a Cigarette Smoking Man.
Then Randy answers his own question: "I guess everyone needs an old man to sit, smoke and hang out."
I agree: everyone needs their own personal Cigarette Smoking Man. I think they make great wedding presents.