how to be cool

Hey, I’m about 15 and hanging out in a tram shelter watching myself blow smoke rings in the glass reflection.
Man, am I cool?
In fact, I’m so busy watching my reflection I don’t notice the steadily elongating piece of ash on the end of my ciggie until it drops onto the front of my cool shirt.
Mild panic ensues while I frantically brush off the ash before it does any real damage.
Whoops – in the confusion my ciggie has fallen out of my mouth and sumersaults down my front while I make a valiant, juggling effort to catch it.
Ouch, ouch!! Burney fingers.
But do manage to save it before it hits the ground.
Heh, heh. No one saw that, did they? (Has surrepititous glance about to confirm this. No? Phew. Ok.)
I’m v cool. Watch me watching me blow some more smoke rings at my reflection.

Smirk. Smirk. Smirk. As the sole observer of the above events I thought I did well to hide my mirth behind my novel. It did make me laugh out loud several times later on during the day. Much amusement!