Sometimes, smoking doesn't seem like the absolute dumbest thing you can do

A young man called me the other day. It was mid-afternoon. His name was Todd.

Todd was representing Bell Mobility; he sounded young, maybe fresh out of high school, maybe a little older, maybe working part-time to pay for his degree in shiatsu massage.

He began his opening spiel as I settled in with a filterless Camel. It was a long-winded affair, likely read from a long sheet of paper held in one trembling hand. Cigarette smoke curled thickly around my head like a martyr's halo. When twenty seconds had passed and this initial ordeal was over, I had gleaned the two things I have already mentioned: the young man's name was Todd and he worked for Bell Mobility.

Politely, I asked Todd exactly what he wanted. He sounded elated that I would ask, his sad, small voice a testament to the lingering sickness of civilization. He frantically informed me that I had been chosen for various new cellphone offers; he called these new offers "exciting." In his excitement, his voice seemed sadder and smaller still. I felt nothing for this faceless pitchman.

I told Todd I didn't own a cellular phone. He was silent for a moment, dumbfounded by this strange revelation perhaps, his previous exhilaration forgotten.

He stumbled and sputtered for a moment before striking upon a glorious idea: He could set me up with my very own cellphone "right here and now." His desperation was palpable. Through the phone line and despite the thick cloud of cigarette smoke all around me, I could smell the perspiration on his upper lip, almost picture its trembling peach fuzz growing dewy with sweat. He was beaten. A poor, sad, small-voiced boy trying to hawk cellphones to someone on a landline. I savoured the irony.

"Todd?" I asked, feeling what may have been a twinge of sympathy in the pit of my stomach.

"Yes, Mr. Pires?" he replied.

"I'm going to go now Todd. But I want you to know, I'll always remember our time together. Please don't call again."

I could hear paper shuffling through the receiver. Todd spouted a few sentences, mentioning Bell Mobility three more times. He indicated his hope that I would have a nice day.

I told him I would.