We got out of THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND at about 10:45. Jay and I saw it at the Pavillion, over on Prospect Park West.
We turn the corner, and Jay ducks into the doorway of a closed restaurant to light his cigarette, and I put mine in my mouth, waiting -- Jay had only two matches, so I turn to him to watch him as he was going to light his first, and then mine.
"Can I have a cigarette?"
I turn around, and a lady is standing next to me, holding out her hand with a small black lighter clutched under her thumb -- seeing that most probably I could better afford to buy Jay another pack than this woman could buy one for herself, I give her the cigarette from between my lips, "Sure ... have mine."
"I'm pregnant, thanks a lot," and then she turns and starts walking.
I wish I could have seen the look on my face. I'm sure it was priceless.
I turn to Jay, who is staring at the tiny flame. I fumble for his Parliaments to pull out the last one. "Did you hear what she said?"
"Who? The crazy lady?"
"She asked for a cigarette, I gave one to her, and then she said she was pregnant."
"She looked crazy."
While Jay and I are talking and walking we look up and see that the lady is standing at the corner waiting for us. Both of us start looking for a way to avoid her: we're walking around a rather busy traffic circle and crossing into the circle was not an option ... and reverseing direction was, well, not an option either as we wanted to go to the bar that lay around the circle.
"This street scares me ... I don't want to go around the corner," says the lady. "Will you take me?"
NOW, this lady is probably (hopefully) in her mid thirties. She was slouched over, wearing clean jeans and warm downy-looking black jacket, and carrying a little bag. She didn't look particularly threatening, but she did sound crazy. The whole pregnant/cigarette thing. Plus, she said, "This dark street scares me. I don't want to walk alone."
Again, I can sympathize, but we were in part of the historic section of Prospect Park, on a rather busy traffic circle that had brownstone lined streets feeding into it ... streets that had a lamp post at about every 30 feet. So it wasn't dark, it was just nighttime.
"Sorry, but we're headed this way," says Jay, pointing towards the vague general direction of the bar. I start to pull away from Jay a bit, to go help the lady, and Jay starts walking, taking me with him.
"I feel kinda' sorry for her," I say.
Jay looks at me: "Dude. She was eating the cigarette."
My response: "Ohhh ... do you think that if a pregnant woman ate a cigarette it would still harm the baby?"