sister mary pugnacious of the painful ruler

I have a friend, a fine southern gentleman (even if he does drink white wine) who lives far away. We chat regularly with an instant message service. We do this because I do not like the phone. Let me be clear. I hate the fucking telephone. Which, while not the same as hating to talk to my friends, generally interferes with my doing so anyway.

And though he wants to speak with me on the phone, I have been refusing, because it means he goes out into his garage to smoke cigarettes. Now my faithful readers are well aware that I am the supreme enabler, but not about smoking, ever. This comes with being one of those obnoxious ex-smokers, a badge I wear proudly.

He decided to quit smoking. I'm all for it. I even offered to talk with him on the telephone if he went for three days without a smoke. (I know, I know, it's a huge sacrifice. But I'm willing to do this for my friends.)

Anyway, today hobbitt and I began planting the shrubbery that has been sitting for more than a week out front. (I say we, but all I did was point.) I came inside to pick up the laptop to do some research on sun/water needs, and saw that the chat window was open. It was my friend. I sat on the front steps and had this brief exchange with him.

A fine southern gentleman: I'm going nuts.
me: ...Waddup?
A fine southern gentleman: Serious nicotine withdrawls here; I may not make it until tomorrow.
me: Whelp. I guess you do not want to hear my melodious voice.
A fine southern gentleman: Oh yes, I do.
A fine southern gentleman: Maybe cold turkey isn't the way to go this time.
me: Uh oh. Here's with the rationalizations.
me: Get a patch.
A fine southern gentleman: I have the shakes - literally, right now.
me: Get a patch.
A fine southern gentleman: I feel like ants are crawling on me.
me: Did you hear me?
A fine southern gentleman: I heard you.
me: Get in the car now and go to the pharmacy.
A fine southern gentleman: Okay.
me: Get some nicotine in you.
me: Do not smoke it.
A fine southern gentleman: I need a script for that?
me: Don't think so.
A fine southern gentleman: I'm going.
me: At least give it a try.
A fine southern gentleman: Go back to planting - we'll chat later.
me: Check back in. I have my phone in my pocket.
A fine southern gentleman: And you'll answer it?
me: I will. Later. When you're wearing a patch.

He got nicotine gum. It was right next to the smokes at the store. My hat is off to him. He's a strong fellow.

He'd better be.