An Exchange


I never give cigarettes or much sympathy to people on the street who ask for an extra smoke. Cigarettes are a luxury for me and times are tough, so the new pack I buy nearly everyday is for me.

I had just bought a pack the other day, and as I was walking home from Rite-Aid I heard a strangled cry from behind me. I turned around to see a raggedy looking girl without a coat on, swinging a dirty mesh drawstring bag at her side. She asked if I had a cigarette. I must have looked hesitant, but I reached in my purse to retrieve one anyway. I handed it to her, looking disdainful, and she exclaimed "Wait! Do you want an ice pop for one?"

I told her yes, I really would. She reached into her bag and opened a new package of Edy's fruit pops, handed me one of the five from the box and left me standing on the sidewalk, eating a rather expensive frozen block of strawberry. It was my favorite flavor, and I was beginning to feel like I should have given her a second cigarette.