The Bet

I gave up smoking, as I usually do, at my friend's house. None of his family smoke, so it's a smoke free house, and they would nag me if I failed to give up.

This time I thought I'd spice things up with a bet. So eventually, after negotations, it was decided I would bet my friend's delightful daughter. We shook hands and everything. I didn't even cross my fingers behind my back. We bet a pound to a hundred pounds that I won't smoke before Xmas. So if I win, I get a shiny coin, if I lose I hand over a ton.


There is one small problem with this bet however.


As you will note from my metero intacto (that I shall again display, in case you missed it: One week, one day, 10 hours, 7 minutes and 43 seconds. 252 cigarettes not smoked, saving £69.48. Life saved: 21 hours, 0 minutes) I have already, in one week and half a day, saved nearly 70 quid. Therefore, by my calculations - and yes, I am calculating this - I could afford to pay the bet with no loss to myself by about Friday.

In fact, as I sit here thinking about this now, I realise I could:

a) Smoke on Friday evening

b) Go to Devon on Saturday and pay up the lost bet

c) Give up again on Saturday night at my friend's house

d) Start the whole cycle again

Which would, in itself, be healthier than smoking every day.

It's the kind of scheme that makes perfect sense a week into a quit.

Now, I must away and buy biscuits, or cake, or something.