I knew a girl at work once who was truly concerned about her husband’s smoking. She told me that she had finally gotten him to agree to limit his smoking at home to only those times when they had finished making love.
She had gotten the idea from a classic movie they had both seen on TV called “Cold Turkey.”
After about a week, I asked her how it was going.
“Well, not too bad,” she said, getting up off of a pillow she had in her chair and limping towards the photocopy machine.
“I’ve gotten him down to about a pack a night now.”
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