Good That Is Good

Smooth, manicured fingernails tapped impatiently on the checkerboard tablecloth, a quick tune that matched the owner of the fingers mood. The rich smell of coffee swirled its way up to the young woman's nose, teasing her senses. Her fingers paused in their soft song for a moment as she reached for the coffee mug, the warmth of it, ironically enough, cooled her anger a bit.

"Where is he?" she muttered before taking a small sip of her drink.

"You know coffee is considered a drug?" A man's voice said from behind her. "And drugs can lead to addiction, which can't be very good for your health now can it?"

The young woman turned to face the source of the voice and glared at him, her eyebrows creasing in the middle in annoyance.

"That's rich, coming from the chronic smoker," she retorted. "I bet you haven't smoked less than a pack a day in a year."

"Ahh but the difference is that I don't claim to be healthy. In fact I embrace the unhealthiness of my beloved cigarettes," he grinned at her, an impish grin that crinkled the corners of his mouth and lit up his soft brown eyes.

"It's exactly that reasoning that's gonna kill you someday, James." She said, frowning at him.

James pulled the other chair at the cafe table out and turned it around, sat down and crossed his arms over the backrest. He took a long drag of his cigarette, gazing at her appreciatively, and then blew smoke out in her direction. He laughed as his companion scrunched up her nose in distaste and waved the smoke away with a hand.

"But living life without the risk of death every now and again isn't really living, my dear." James said, waving the cigarette carelessly as he spoke. "So in fact, by putting myself in danger of death I am actually living a much fuller life, as unhealthy as it might be, to your impeccable one. Don't they always say the good things in life are always bad for you?"

"Not all good things are bad for you," she murmured, staring into her coffee. "But it appears that the majority are, yes."

"Let's make another comparison now, shall we?" James said thoughtfully.

The young woman looked up at him curiously. One of her brown curls had fallen in her face and she brushed it behind her ear impatiently.

"A comparison on what, Mr. Philosopher?" She teased him gently.

"On us of course, unless you'd like to talk about something else?" She shook her head. "Well everything in life falls under one of four categories: those that are good but are bad for you, those that are bad but good for you, those that are good and good for you, those that are bad and bad for you.

"It's easy to recognize two of these, those that are good and good for you, and those that are bad and bad for you. Everyone knows that music can be a stress reliever and that it does no harm to your body or mind, therefore it's good and good for you. There's also those things that are bad and bad for you."

"Cigarettes?" the woman murmured.

James ignored her.

"Everyone knows to avoid, hmm," he trailed off in thought for a moment. "Say a rabid dog. If you're bitten you're shit out of luck, so therefore it's bad and bad for you. It's a no brainer that if you see a rabid dog that you should run in the opposite direction.

"But the other two are trickier." He went on. "Things that are good but bad for you, like my cigarettes or your coffee, are so much harder to avoid. You know that you probably should,"

"Definitely should," she interrupted.

"But it's nearly impossible." James said, ignoring what she'd said. "They call your name, and even if you resist the temptation it's only a matter of time before you cave. And then of course there are the things that are bad but good for you. Brussels sprouts are a good example, I suppose. The things taste like shit but are good for your body, you want to avoid them but you know you should eat them for your own sake."

"I thought you were going to compare us?" She said, wondering where on earth James was taking the conversation.

"Patience is a virtue, Delilah," James reprimanded her.

"You should practice what you preach before you preach it." She replied dryly.

"Well said, my dear," James praised her. "But back to what I was saying before you interrupted me. You and I fall into two different categories. You, Delilah Brooks, fall into the category of good that is good for you. Everything about you is so genuine; I don't think you've ever told a lie in you life."

"That's not true," Delilah replied, slightly indignantly.

"How many of them were believed?" James asked, but didn't wait for a response. "And then there's me, the bad that is bad for you." He took another long drag of his cigarette, suddenly quiet and lost in thought.

"I don't agree with that." She said.

"Then I'm the good that's bad for you, at best." James replied.

"No," Delilah replied. "You're more than that."

"Oh really? I'm at a dead-end in life, Delilah." He said bitterly.

"It's not a dead-end James," Delilah said. "It's a wall, and there's a door in it, you've just been too lazy to open it."

James opened his mouth as if to interrupt her but she gave him a glare. He took another drag from his cigarette instead.

"You're the good in life that's good for you; you just happen to always pick the things in life that are good but bad for you." She finished.

James blew out a puff of smoke and stared at her.

"Except for you," he replied. "Have I told you lately how much I love you, dear Delilah?"

"I'm slightly annoyed that I have to say no." She answered.

"Well I do, I love you because you are one of the only good things in my life that's good for me. You easily make my top five list of things I love." He smiled at her, his eyes lighting up again.

"But more importantly do I rank higher than your cigarettes?"

"Hmm, you're not quite there yet, my dear." He said, puffing another small cloud of smoke at her.