I have plenty of friends who are smokers. It is not a deal-breaker for who I choose to spend my time with. Still, I have to say that the very thought of smoking disgusts me. I believe that it takes a certain kind of person to smoke, and especially to be a certain kind of smoker, and I don't like this kind of person very much.
First of all, smoking is about so much more than cigarettes. It is about space and courtesy. My smoker friends claim to have some kind of "smoker's honour code." It's this unwritten rule that you give people cigarettes when they're out, and you don't feel guilty about "bumming a fag when you're tapped." I don't buy it. I've seen it happen too many times where "Oh, sorry, I just lit my last one" is followed by smoking three more from the supposedly empty pack. If you don't want to share, that's cool. But don't claim to have some honour about it. "Go buy your own cigarettes, leech," is probably just as easy, and it's the truth.
Ok, so there's the courtesy between smokers, and then there's the courtesy of smokers as a group. You (the smoker) are knowingly and willingly making the air less liveable for the people around you, whether they like it or not. If a smoker even takes the time to ask if its ok to smoke, they scoff on the rare occasions when someone has the balls to say "Actually, no." Don't misunderstand me. I have known some extremely courteous smokers, those who step outside even without being asked, those who quietly sit in the non-smoking section without raising a fuss. These should be the rule, not the exception. They're not. They're not because I notice when these types of things happen.
Next, the butts. I'm a butt man, always have been. But I really hate the butts of smokers. Why do I even bother to throw my trash in the garbage? I should just do like most of the smokers out there and toss it out the car window when I'm done. No, I should light it on fire and then toss it out the car window. I see butts everywhere. In a town like Freiburg with cobblestone streets, they get wedged in the cracks only to be fished out by pidgeons and unknowing children to play with. It's really, really gross. I've seen the ashtray of a smoker after just two days of regular smoking. I imagine collecting all the ashes and butts of a lifelong smoker and just dumping them outside their door. Here, now it's yours to deal with. Happy shoveling.
After all of this, I want to make one thing clear. This rant is not to say I agree with the decision of some cities and states to become "smoke free." I like leaving the bar not smelling like the bottom of a bingo-hall ashtray as much as the next non-smoker, but I'm not convinced it is the right of any government to summarily impose such regulations. Still, my stance is not clear. I am all for making it as hard as possible to be a smoker. Raise the cigarette tax until it is unrealistic. Enforce littering fines for smokers who carelessly ditch their butts. But you also need to let the market control itself. If a non-smoking bar opened next to my favorite smoker's-haven disco, I would jump ranks quicker than you could click those ruby slippers three times. I know there are others who would follow me down that non-smoking brick road.
Dating a smoker is a deal-breaker. I don't care how courteous a smoker you are, you need to be self-aware that you are doing something that is dangerous for your body and intrusive for the people around you. The ability to reconcile these things and continue to smoke are just qualities that I simply cannot find attractive in a potential mate. I've been burned, quite literally, at the disco one too many times. Sorry, it is what it is.
Happy smoking!
Flown by mariposa at 05:10 AM on May 21, 2006
