Like my fabulous readers, I have discovered another support system in the strangest of places. I briefly slipped off the wagon this weekend, I am almost sheepish to admit.
I smoked an entire box of cigarettes.
Come Sunday morning, I walked over to the corner café to buy another pack. My eyes were swollen from crying, I promptly told the owner what I had come for. He refused to sell me a box of cigarettes, of all the facking nerve.
For three years now, this little Portuguese man has sold me cigarettes, sold me airtime when I was on Pay As You Go, and sold me a bad pie every now and then. He is the type of person that if you don’t have time, don’t go in there. I know about his boat sitting in the port of Lisbon, I know about his family, his wife. Bless. He has told me his whole life, and sometimes I’m stuck there for 40 minutes. Sometimes he serves me first. He also knows I gave up smoking two months ago.
Me: Marlboro Lights please.
Him: No. I no sell you cigarettes.
Me: And why not?
Me: Fuck that.
Him: You no tell me to fuck.
So the little bastard refused to sell me a box. Bless him. Even though I was crying. Even though I threatened to go to the petrol station down the road instead. He patted my shoulder, gave me a free chocolate and told me to dry my eyes.
The dude that works at the Kung Fu Kitchen even stepped out to give me a pitiful stare and a wave. As well as the Indian family that runs the bottle store, who told me things will get better when I walked in on Saturday to buy me four bottles of wine, vodka and anything else I could lay my grief-stricken hands on. My little, yet peripheral community, is looking out for me.
The poor oke at Kung Fu Kitchen, bless his little Chinese slippers, has seen me at my worst on many an occasion. Usually with one or two mates, when we’re plastered and we’re craving Chicken Chow Mein at 11: at night. Or when I wander on over there in my pyjamas to buy prawn chips and a fortune cookie. Same with the girl that owns the pizzeria. She knows I take my salmon pizza with capers, not caviar.
In the meantime, I'm starting to feel a little more chipper. Last night I managed to laugh the entire evening. I'm also starting to feel angry. And therein, my friends, the fun starts.