Setting: Monday night, the stairwell going up to my apt.
I'm walking up the 7 flights and catch up to the man who lives next door...
Him: (huffing) Good evening.
Me: (passing him) Good evening.
Him: (referring to climbing 7 flights) It's rough, eh?
Me: (awkward laugh) Yeah. Not easy.
And then, he lifts up his lit cigarette (which I had not previously seen) and says, with a beaming, sincere smile:
Him: Yeah, but it's good for the heart.
Oh. France.
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