Wine and Cigarettes

“What’s with all the candles?” said Michael. ”You getting all sexy on me, hon?”

“We missed paying the electric bill, again,” said Helen.

“Oh,” said Michael. “Well, the candles do add a certain charm to the place. Maybe we should seriously consider cutting electricity out of our complex lives. It’s overrated.

“I’ve always felt we should get back to basics. Live the simple life. Build us a cabin in the woods. Start a vegetable garden. Chop our own wood. Play banjos on the front porch. Invite the neighbors over for canasta and moonshine. And if you throw a cow and a couple of pigs into the mix, we can live the good life. The life folks enjoyed before all of this electricity business.”

“You?" said Helen. “You’re going to build us a cabin in the woods? You, who still hasn’t finished building the bird house you started when we moved in this rental thirty years ago.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Michael, “the bird house. I’d forgotten about that. But that was just a whim, Helen. Birds have been getting along fine before people started building them bird houses. I wasn’t too concerned about finishing it. But building a place for us to live? Completely different animal. I’d put my heart and soul into it. I’d be in a different frame of mind for that one.”

Michael reached into his jacket for his cigarettes and realized he was down to his last one.

“Damn,” said Michael. “I’m all out. I’d better run before the stores close.”

“And that’s another thing,” said Helen. “Those cigarettes.”

“What about them?”

“They cost you seventy three dollars a carton.”

“Well, that’s certainly not my fault,” said Michael. “I didn’t raise the sales tax. The government did. So you can take your argument to city hall.”

“Not so fast, buster,” said Helen. “You pay seventy three dollars a carton. You smoke two packs a day. That averages to sixty packs a month or six cartons. That totals four hundred and thirty eighty dollars a month you spend on cigarettes. That’s a problem. That’s the entire electric, cable and phone bill’s for the month. You’re smoking us out of house and home. You need to quit, mister!”

“You know, Helen, I have been getting this awful cough lately. I suppose it is time to give it up. Maybe, then, I can finally start saving for those logs and the banjos.”

“Now you’re being sensible, Michael. Only don’t take your jacket off just yet. I’m all out of wine. But this time get the double bottles. You know how I get when I don’t have wine in the house.”

Michael then started doing some calculating of his own. And by the time he was through, they both decided not to be too hasty in giving up the two little joys they had in their life.

“By the time we’re ready to go,” said Michael, “we’ll have saved enough for the plots and the caskets. As least we’ll have a home in the after-life.”

“You're always looking on the bright side, Michael. I’m so glad I’ve got you to take care of me, Now, go! The stores close in twenty minutes.”