henry higgins kicks over the stupid milk crate he usually sits on for his smoke breaks. “i hate this stupid job,” henry higgins says, but he knows all his luck's run out, slipped through his fingers like stone into sand. henry higgins rights the milk crate and materializes a pack of cigarettes from his deli uniform. henry higgins looks at a statue of hamlet at the university across the street. that damned statue. he can't stand it. he thinks about it when he shaves the cold cuts. hamlet. what the hell ever happened? henry higgins takes the first long drag from his cigarette. shit’s gone downhill in a hurry.