It is the last smoke break of the work day. I take the elevator down to the ground floor and disembark, heading out the back door to the smoke pit.

It's a pretty cool place for a pit. Muthah kicked us outside with our nasty habit but she built us this wonderfully picturesque shelter with seating all the way around and nice flowers and shrubs and stuff. It even has a roof and a light just in case you're smoking after dark. The light comes on all by itself. Goes off all by itself, too.

Of course, in Texas we never have rain that falls straight to the ground so the roof doesn't do us much good. Horizontal rain has a way of bypassing the roof altogether. And in the winter months you have to be really committed to that cigarette to withstand the north wind racing across Ellington Field and the prairie beyond. But it's a cool place, and especially in nice weather there is great fun to be had in the pit.

We are a brutal bunch. All rules of appropriate behavior are suspended. If you show a weakness we will jump on it and never let up. You will be teased unmercifully about everything from your attitude to your zodiac sign. Nothing is sacred. And you have to be willing to dish it out, too. It's expected of you. As a result, there is always much uproarious laughter erupting from the pit. Non-smokers have been known to come hang out with us just for the experience.

It is also the place where all the world's major problems are solved. It serves as a communications hub for the information underground. And once in a while something really good comes out of the pit, like the plan hatched last Christmas to put a new rear windshield in Liz and Susie's car. Vandals had destroyed their windshield with a brick and replacing it was way down on their budget priority list. They were planning to struggle through the winter with a piece of plastic stretched over the gaping hole and address the windshield problem at a later date.

As I emerge from the building I see that Jimmy and the Wild Man await me in the pit. The Wild Man gets that look on his face when he sees me. The one where he reminds me of a Boston Terrier at attention.

Replacing the windshield had been the Wild Man's idea. He mentioned it to Carol and Carol moved out aggressively and before we knew it we had collected enough money for a windshield and had almost $700.00 to give them in cash. Everyone in the building contributed. It was one of Muthah's finest hours.

"Uh oh, here comes Trouble," the Wild Man says.

It is hard not to laugh. His ears are standing straight up and his head is cocked in that perky canine fashion so familiar to me now. I smile and take a seat.

"Look at her," the Wild Man says to Jimmy. "She's got that cocky little smile on her face. You KNOW she's up to something."

"Up to no good," Jimmy says.

I tap a cigarette against my ring twice and bend my head to light it. I draw deep on the nail and clench it in my teeth, letting the smoke flow out of my mouth all as I slip the lighter back in my pocket. Then I pluck the ciggie out of my mouth and smile at the Wild Man again.

"You know it," I say.

"Hey, I thought about you last night," the Wild Man says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I almost bought you a present, as a matter of fact."

"Wooaahh, a present?!?", says Jimmy, looking from the Wild Man to me and back again.

"Yeah. I almost did. I was in Sam's doing some shopping and I ran across a couple of CDs titled 'Harley Road Tunes'. They made me think of you. I almost bought 'em for you. I almost did."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well," I say, taking another drag off my cigarette. "You know what? I almost appreciate it."