James couldn't drink. Sneaking in beers didn't work. Because he couldn't get drunk. Instead he would just feel bloated and have to piss. So he began chain smoking. 

Big Joe

didn't approve. But since it didn't impact their heist he couldn't complain.

James would smoke a whole pack by the afternoon. Sitting there watching cars drive by on the road. He noticed that cars were real loud. Not just their engine. But their tires gliding across the alphalt. Tires. Rubber. Gasoline. What a combo. It reminded James of 

America

. 

real

america. None of that liberal, progressive 

EV

bullshit. Cars the way 

God

intended people to use.

He pretended to be like 

Big Joe

. Said a few words in his best Big Joe accent. And then put another 

cigarette

in his mouth. The second to last one in the pack. He'd go buy another pack while smoking the final one in about 15 minutes.

"Hey partner."

James jumped in the air. That accent was too good. And it didn't come from him. He turned. His first question was, how did Big Joe get in here. Too scared to ask, he greeted him. Stood up and shook hands. Real old school style. James could tell the smoking disgusted Big Joe. Apparently he only ate granola and yogurt for breakfast. For lunch he'd either eat a big diner meal or just drink vegetable juice.

"So. You ready?"

Could James say no?

"Yes."

"Good."

Flower shop though. Why hit a florist? That didn't make sense.

Big Joe turned over to him. "Say, can i get a cigarette?"

James was shocked. Handed it over. Lifted his lighter to Big Joe who threw it off the balcony.