Not cigarette-y enough

Just now we were driving home from comedy down Dwight Street. We were stopped at the light at 7eleven when I peered over to the car next to me all casual-like.

There was a guy alone in a car and he was smoking. He was smoking one of those cigarettes that looks like a cigar, but is way too skinny to be a cigar, but is too big to be a cigarette. You know, the kind that old men smoke. It was the kind my cousins' other grandpa (not No-legs) smoked.

The thing is, this guy was maybe 21. And he wasn't smoking it like a person who smokes cigarettes generally does. It was just hanging out of his mouth all James Dean like, except it was too long and too not cigarette-y to be anything like James Dean.

Also, he was driving some kind of crappy car James Dean wouldn't be caught dead in.

I couldn't take the incongruity. I started laughing so hard that I cried at the wheel. I don't think he knew I was laughing at him, but Scott suspects he knew because he took off like a bat out of hell as soon as the light turned green.

Even after we parked the car and came in the house I was laughing. In fact, I'm still laughing now.