Been out walkin' in the rain. Only briefly, unfortunately, 'cause the rain gave up on me not long into the walk. But that's okay. It was fun while it lasted. Leaving my house required a tricky bit of navigation, actually, because both Fourteenth and Fifteenth Streets flood when it rains this much this fast, and so of course Four-and-a-Half Alley transforms into a canal between these two great lakes. By the time I headed out, my apartment was an island in a sea of glistening glop. Now, I love splashing in puddles as much as the next guy, but I've seen what's on the ground in my little alley, and I don't want it floating past me in the dark. I waited 'til I got a little further away and found some slightly less-contaminated puddles to splash in.
I brought my favorite lighter with me. I call it the Magic Lighter, because it lights no matter what. I mean, it's a cheap-ass disposable lighter of indeterminate make and eccentric design, but it really is magical. It works when it's wet, it works when it's cold, it works in a car without rolling the windows up or in the wind when I've only got one hand free. I save it special to use in bad weather, 'cause it's the only lighter I can trust to stand up to the tempests the world occasionally throws at me.
But it's finally beginning to run out of fluid. I say "finally" because I've had it for over a year now. It's a really big lighter, you see (I mean BIG...I've never seen another one like it), and held a lot of fluid. It would, in fact, make a formidable weapon. I'm terribly depressed that it's dying on me, because I can't replace it. I can't just go to the store it originally came from and buy a new one, because it's stolen, and I have absolutely no idea where it was purchased.
Now, before you get thinkin' ill of me, I'm not really a thief. I mean, you could walk off and leave your wallet next to me on the bar and I'd chase you down and give it to you. But lighters...stealing lighters doesn't count as stealing. It just doesn't. I mean, in the first place, it's something most people do unconsciously. For a smoker, you light your smoke and then slip the lighter into your pocket in one motion. The pocketing of the lighter is part of the act of lighting the cigarette. Because of this, when I give someone a light, I usually light the cigarette for them rather than letting them actually handle it. It's a simple rule of self-smoking-preservation.
Also, I've come to subscribe to the Great Karma Lighter Wheel theory of lighter justice. See (an aside to the unitiated), there's this Great Karma Lighter Wheel that devolves lighters into and out of the possession of smokers (depending on diverse factors including merit, luck, and personal alcohol content), and this wheel has a Yin and a Yang. Yes, I know I'm mixing metaphors (or worse, unrelated concepts from two eastern religions that have nothing to do with each other), but try to come with me on this...
The Yin of the Great Karma Lighter Wheel: Anyone who fails to pay sufficient attention to prevent the theft of this object, which is probably the single most-stolen personal item in the long, dark story of humanity, does not deserve to have one anyway.
The Yang of the Great Karma Lighter Wheel: The person that you're stealing this lighter from came by it by virtue of its theft from ANOTHER person, and will steal it back from you at the first opportunity. In fact, this lighter probably belonged to you in a past life.
Because it's one of those bizarre facts of life that no one ever, in the history of the world, has actually bought a disposable lighter. I am completely at a loss, in fact, to explain how lighters get into the economy in the first place. I carry three or four lighters everywhere I go, just in case, and I've got probably fifty more in my house, and I can't remember ever taking money out of my pocket to buy one. The closest I come is that the little cigarette store I shop at, up at the corner of 20th Street and Fifth Avenue, gives away free lighters when you buy a carton of smokes. But that little place just can't, on their own, be responsible for every lighter on the market. Bill Gates himself couldn't have flooded the market with this many lighters.
I think the government's behind it. I think that the CIA decided to get everyone they could hooked on crack, and then they suddenly realized that in order to smoke crack you need a lighter, and so they hid a couple billion a year in lighter expenses in some HUD bill or something, and now they have secret lighter agents who surreptitiously leave lighters lying on bars, or slip them into the pockets of schoolchildren, all across America. No one but the government is capable of a conspiracy on this scale.
Anyway, yeah, I'm not gonna be lighter-less, 'cause my apartment's just plain lousy with lighters, but I am gonna miss this particular one. I'm glad the Great Karma Lighter Wheel dropped it on me, and let me keep it so long. Goodbye, old friend. I hope you've achieved Bic Nirvana at last.
I brought my favorite lighter with me. I call it the Magic Lighter, because it lights no matter what. I mean, it's a cheap-ass disposable lighter of indeterminate make and eccentric design, but it really is magical. It works when it's wet, it works when it's cold, it works in a car without rolling the windows up or in the wind when I've only got one hand free. I save it special to use in bad weather, 'cause it's the only lighter I can trust to stand up to the tempests the world occasionally throws at me.
But it's finally beginning to run out of fluid. I say "finally" because I've had it for over a year now. It's a really big lighter, you see (I mean BIG...I've never seen another one like it), and held a lot of fluid. It would, in fact, make a formidable weapon. I'm terribly depressed that it's dying on me, because I can't replace it. I can't just go to the store it originally came from and buy a new one, because it's stolen, and I have absolutely no idea where it was purchased.
Now, before you get thinkin' ill of me, I'm not really a thief. I mean, you could walk off and leave your wallet next to me on the bar and I'd chase you down and give it to you. But lighters...stealing lighters doesn't count as stealing. It just doesn't. I mean, in the first place, it's something most people do unconsciously. For a smoker, you light your smoke and then slip the lighter into your pocket in one motion. The pocketing of the lighter is part of the act of lighting the cigarette. Because of this, when I give someone a light, I usually light the cigarette for them rather than letting them actually handle it. It's a simple rule of self-smoking-preservation.
Also, I've come to subscribe to the Great Karma Lighter Wheel theory of lighter justice. See (an aside to the unitiated), there's this Great Karma Lighter Wheel that devolves lighters into and out of the possession of smokers (depending on diverse factors including merit, luck, and personal alcohol content), and this wheel has a Yin and a Yang. Yes, I know I'm mixing metaphors (or worse, unrelated concepts from two eastern religions that have nothing to do with each other), but try to come with me on this...
The Yin of the Great Karma Lighter Wheel: Anyone who fails to pay sufficient attention to prevent the theft of this object, which is probably the single most-stolen personal item in the long, dark story of humanity, does not deserve to have one anyway.
The Yang of the Great Karma Lighter Wheel: The person that you're stealing this lighter from came by it by virtue of its theft from ANOTHER person, and will steal it back from you at the first opportunity. In fact, this lighter probably belonged to you in a past life.
Because it's one of those bizarre facts of life that no one ever, in the history of the world, has actually bought a disposable lighter. I am completely at a loss, in fact, to explain how lighters get into the economy in the first place. I carry three or four lighters everywhere I go, just in case, and I've got probably fifty more in my house, and I can't remember ever taking money out of my pocket to buy one. The closest I come is that the little cigarette store I shop at, up at the corner of 20th Street and Fifth Avenue, gives away free lighters when you buy a carton of smokes. But that little place just can't, on their own, be responsible for every lighter on the market. Bill Gates himself couldn't have flooded the market with this many lighters.
I think the government's behind it. I think that the CIA decided to get everyone they could hooked on crack, and then they suddenly realized that in order to smoke crack you need a lighter, and so they hid a couple billion a year in lighter expenses in some HUD bill or something, and now they have secret lighter agents who surreptitiously leave lighters lying on bars, or slip them into the pockets of schoolchildren, all across America. No one but the government is capable of a conspiracy on this scale.
Anyway, yeah, I'm not gonna be lighter-less, 'cause my apartment's just plain lousy with lighters, but I am gonna miss this particular one. I'm glad the Great Karma Lighter Wheel dropped it on me, and let me keep it so long. Goodbye, old friend. I hope you've achieved Bic Nirvana at last.
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