Eavesdropping

Let me recount to you the joys of reading when the following is going on outside one's door.

The scene
A short, 5 foot nothing, 60-something-year-old woman. Short black hair, probably mussed. No make up because it's the weekend. Grey shorts and tank top. Red boot-like slippers. A fat, smelly, obnoxious, arthritic, allergic-to-everything dog that used to resemble a black lab is at her feet, but gets up to bark at every mosquito that flies by - and every other thing that crosses her path.

She's sitting in cheap green plastic patio furniture from Wal-mart, having her afternoon smoke. The cigarette smoke slowly curls off the fag, but she doesn't puff too much on it. However, when she yells at the dog or anyone going to check the mail or do a load of laundry, the smoke comes out of her mouth in small, opaque nebulae as she chokes over her own words, trying to shout a friendly word at the passers by.

The conversation
Landlady: Hiyeeee. *cough cough gag*

Passer-by: *mumble*

L: How you *cough* do-iiing?

P: Fine. You?

L: *cough hack cough* I've got a creak in myeee neck. Have you ever got a creak in your neck?

P: *mumble*

L: I don't know what to *hack* do about it. *cough cough* I'm at the *hack* doctor all the time ...

And the conversation continues for 10 more minutes while the passer-by is held hostage on the way to the laundry room.