Hey Smokers – What’s Up?
Continuing my intermittent series of open letters, here's one to smokers in London.
Dear Smokers of London:
Hey! What's up? How's it going? Stressful day, eh? Relaxing with a nice drag off a (cheaper here than in NYC, even with the exchange rate) ciggie? That's cool.
This is not a letter where I'm going to judge you. I know you have enough to deal with, what with the hacking cough, yellow teeth and lighter wallet (kidding!). Seriously, it's got to be a big pain in the ass to have to leave your cozy cubicle to go outside for a smoke. And you can't even enjoy your vice of choice in pubs and bars anymore! Obnoxious.
Look, I know that this is a habit you have. I know that if I had to step outside every time I wanted a glass of whiskey, or a hot chocolate, I'd be kind of annoyed. And I'm not judging your habit, despite the friendly little jab at the opening of this letter. Look, you know the statistics about smoking, and you still smoke. That's fine with me. I know the statistics and I still chow down on a Krispy Kreme way more often than I should (especially now that I'm living near a Tesco that stocks them 'round the clock). We all make our choices in life, right?
Here's the thing though. Could you PLEASE stop walking and smoking? It's flippin' obnoxious. When people are standing outside a building or pub smoking, that's one thing. I can avoid it. It's obvious – people are in a group, there's smoke, I get it. But when you light up up while walking down Fleet Street on your way to your job, your smoke flies all over the place, swirling around. And you've walked these sidewalks before – there's nowhere for me to go. I can't escape your smoke. You're making me smoke, and it's really annoying me.
Oooh, and you know what's even worse than the smoke? The ASH IN MY EYE. That's right. One of you was kind enough to flick your cigarette mid-smoke, I guess to get the ash off the end, and since you were walking ahead of me, that ash went somewhere, and that somewhere was MY EYE. It did not feel good. It pissed me off. If I wasn't so busy trying to determine whether my eye was on fire, I would have tackled you from behind, NFL-style.
So, to sum up: I have no issues with your decision to smoke. Some of my closest, dearest friends smoke. But they have the courtesy to not blow that stuff in my face, even accidentally. Can you maybe work on doing the same?
Hugs and kisses,
A S K