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A Balcony Scene of Sorts

Standing on a rotting balcony, blowing smoke literally and figuratively, I was among others seeking refuge from the helter-skelter inside.  We were huddled together in coats fighting the elements and common sense to have just one more cigarette.
She pulled out a pack of Djarums, who smokes cloves?  She tore off the cellophane and foil and reached across to put it in my pocket.  She shrugged, "It's as good of a place as any, I didn't want to litter." I asked, "Why cloves though?"  She said, "They smell like Christmas and they crackle." I laughed, "I guess they do a little." We stood and smoked for a few moments of silence.
She asked, "Do you believe in God?"
"No"
"What about abortion?"
"Well, it exists..."
"Who do you know here?"
"Carlos"
"Me too, we're going to Magnolia's in a bit, want to come?"
"Sure."
Carlos walked out and announced, "Well, who's fuckin doin this!"
I patted at my pockets.  I looked up and said, "Hmm it seems that all I have in my pockets are trash, guess my wallet's at home."  She said, "Your loss."
Carlos sauntered over and said, "I reckon I could cover ya this one time buddy" in his worst West Texan accent.
We tilted our heads back and drained our drinks as we descended the stairs.  Carlos stood at the top of the stairs twirling his keys like a gun and said, "Look at the lot of ya, sorriest bunch I ever saw."
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