Where there’s smoke….

Now it’s no secret that I despise smokers, or that I harbour frequent fantasies of squirting them with water pistols and following them around flicking their own discarded cigarette butts at them – seriously how fucking hard is it to put it in the proper receptacle?

Sorry for my uncouthness but sometimes my inner feelings have a tendency to bubble to the surface and erupt in a flurry of completely understandable rage. I dare say having a mentally unstable ex-paramour who heavily partook of this vile habit hasn’t helped foster a particularly unbiased position on the subject.

Don’t misunderstand, it’s not that I wish all smokers to perish in a wonderfully cleansing and beautiful fiery inferno – well maybe in some of my more pleasant daydreams – I mean some of my best friends indulge in this lifestyle choice. My problem arises from when they brazenly flaunt their deviant behaviour in public – think of the children, won’t someone think of the children?!?

Cigaretteshires

Personally when I indulge in my drugs of choice they don’t generally impinge on anyone else’s enjoyment – the same cannot be said for our smoky companions and their noxious fumes. Sure there are ways of dealing with such things, the glass cages to be found in some venues – smoking rooms I believe they are commonly known as – for example. A fine idea in principle but could do with some modification. Do they really need to be allowed to exit once they have locked themselves away in their stinky little pen? And call me kooky but I see no reason at all why they need to be ventilated at all.

I am amazed, however, that it hasn’t become mandatory for all smokers to use electric cigarettes. A lovely young lass recently came to a soirée at our place and brought along with her this delightful little device. There she sat puffing away, quietly killing herself with toxins, with only a harmless, odourless steam vapour emanating from her. It was wonderful; I felt none of the usual bitter loathing and resentment – that I normally reserve for such persons – towards her at all. They wouldn’t even need to be locked in their enclosures anymore, freedom and happiness for all!

ageing

Although I dare say that the chances of a spontaneous worldwide adoption of such a thing are rather on the slim side. That being said there has been a marked increase in the numbers of shops selling such devices – even here in gay Paris. So one does live in hope.

Until then I guess I shall continue on in my current fashion of glaring and making disapproving noises in the hope that they either feel so uncomfortable and leave or simply quit. I find passive/aggressive behaviour much more effective when one adds another helping of aggression, don’t you?

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterShare on Google+Share on TumblrEmail this to someone

Comments are closed.