reason 6

I'm standing outside after hours people watching and having a smoke. A little man begins to walk toward me and past the handicap ramp I'm leaning against. A moment goes by. The little man returns and asks to get a cigarette. I give him one and he says thanks to the "beautiful lady." The sun is setting and I flung my head back to expose my neck to the fading rays. The little man is back. This time he is a carrying a rose he plucked from the rose bush surrounding the company's sign. He said "A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady" handed me the white rose and walked away.

A week later I was enjoying a cigarette midday. The man from the mail room came outside. He likes to smokes cloves. Since he's having a lady cigar and my cigs are slow burning we talk about life. What life? His life. He told me his life story. He was in prison for three years. He was a street pharmacist for fifteen years. After a string of tickets and getting caught driving with a suspended license, it's jail time or a $6,000 fine, neither of which he can afford, if he's seen behind the wheel. He lives an hour away from work in a car. He takes the bus.

reason 6: Strange times with strange men.

[edit/] The man from the mail room informed me a week later that they were giving away margaritas and Coronas on the fourth floor, so I partially excused the autobiography he recited.