It was a little bit of a trick question, as Tom was aware that Murray was off anything that could become addicting. They had both been down that road in their younger years.
“You know I can’t mess with that stuff.”
“But you are back on the cigarettes.”
Murray waved Tom off with his hand.
“Tom, I just need you to read the scripts and tell me which one to take. Please.”
“I can’t do that. How’s the money?”
“Terrible. These aren’t money jobs.”
“This is the best problem in the world to have,” Tom answered.
“I know, I know, I shouldn’t be complaining, but all the same I have to make a decision.”
“Can you do both?”
“It’s not possible.”
“When do you have to decide?”
“End of this week.”
“Oh Murray. You’ll be fine. I’m going to go.”
“What? You have to help me.”
“Sleep on it.”
“I can’t sleep!”
Tom stood up and walked toward the door.
“Tie your laundry cart to the pipe so it doesn’t rattle at night. It’s winter, Murray, the heat’s on.” Tom shook Murray’s hand at the door. Murray stood motionless, confused.
“I’m sure your housekeeper usually ties it. When’s the last time you did your own laundry?”
A grin spread over Murray’s face.
“Won’t keep your neighbor up anymore either, which I suspect will stop him from rambling around in the middle of the night to try to silence that clicking sound. These walls are paper thin, you know.
“You should be able to sleep and I suspect in the morning you’ll know what to do. The answer will present itself.”
Out on the street, Tom was pleased he had seen the solution quickly, as much of one that he could offer Murray anyway. The rest Murray would have to figure out for himself and he would. Tom stepped out into the snow and started back toward his apartment.