Women Who Smoke
Before my father joined the army and was still living at home, when he came back from a date, my Grandmother would ask him only one question:
- So. Does she smoke?
- No ma, she doesn’t smoke.
- O.K. Good-a boy.
This scenario was repeated numerous times until one day he asked her:
- Ma. When I go out on a date why do you keep asking me the question about smoking?
She never looked up from whatever task she was doing and said:
- Why? What’s a matter for you sonny boy? Donchu know? It’s-a because every one else-a knows that if-a she smokes……she fucks.
Since my mother enjoyed smoking Lucky Strikes, I guess that fact alone put No Runs, No Hits and three or four Errors on Grandma’s mental scoreboard when my father finally brought her home. In my grandmother’s eyes, my mother was no better than putana de strada, a street whore.
For it’s one, two, three strikes, you’re out
At the old ball game
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