Lets go ahead and call him kirin.
So kirin get’s this bright idea for his New Year’s resolution to quit smoking.
If you know me, then you know I can’t stand smoking. It’s the worst thing ever! But I’ve heard how hard it is to quit. So even though I wished him the best, I couldn’t help thinking “yea, this is gonna last.”
People may be saying “mark, why are you being so negative?” Well, I happen to know two things about the Irish: they drink like fish, and they never, ever quit. And on top of that, those silly resolutions never last.
That leaves me in a bit of a pickle. So I decided to, how you Americans say, “put my mouth where my money goes.”
I bet the Irish fella $50 big ones if he could make it through one month.
Well, as the keen ones amongst you may have noticed, it is February. That’s right. The poor bastard held out for a whole month. So January 31st, I proposed double or nothing for another month. He gladly agreed, and the little devil on my shoulder has been plotting ever since.
I leave packs of cigarettes out on the counter. I buy him beers and then hang out with him on patios where everyone is smoking.
It appears, much to my dismay, that this youth is quite stalwartly. I’ve even offered other people cuts of the money if they could get him to smoke, all to no avail!
Now you may be thinking, “but mark, I thought you hated smoking!” Well I do. But I hate losing bets even more.
So it’s almost the end of February and the guy is simply not budging. My fear is that the Irishman will hold out 'till the end of the month, and grinningly relieve me of a crisp Benjamin. I can see him now, hopping around from leg to leg with a creepy smile, singing “O’ this be going in my pot o’ gold!”
And since February happens to be the shortest month, I feel twice as cheated. So much for my New Year's resolution: “stop making bets!”