Me and Jesse Helms against the world
I’ve been a smoker for five years now and I’m getting cranky.
First, the cafeteria was declared a no-smoking zone. Then the Pub was declared a no-smoking zone. Even the residence halls might become smoke-e.
What the hell do I have to do to smoke in peace? Move to North Carolina?
This scourge against smokers has roots in my hometown, Walnut Creek (California). Walnut Creek was one of the first cities to enact a no-smoking ordinance in restaurants. I knew it was the start of something ugly. Unfortunately, few lawmakers listen to underage smokers.
At that time, I didn’t partake of either vice. Until the day I got tired of saying “no” and demanded both.
It was all downhill from there.
Regardless, whenever I light up I catch glances from those holier-than-thou non-smokers and I know what they’re thinking: “Eeeeew, that’s so gross. Don’t you know you’re hurting my body and yours by exposing us to lethal toxins?” I want to respond “Yes, and I’m hoping that my filthy habit will keep you away from me.”
Most parties I’ve been to lately have resembled junior high school dances, except it’s the non-smokers on one side of the room and the smokers on the other. Funny thing, the smokers always have more fun… While leaving my 3 p.m. storytelling class last week, I stepped outside and fumbled for my cigarettes. As I lit up, I heard a classmate’s voice behind me, “You shouldn’t smoke — it’s so gross. ” I turned to agree and saw the Marlboro Light in her mouth. I smiled. “Need a match?”