11.08.2005

Smoke This

I hate..hate...HATE walking through cigarette smoke. There is nothing more annoying to me than having that sickly smell just cling (and it does). I don't care if you smoke. I really don't (unless you're my kids...or someone in my family, then I care). But Mr. Joe Blow college call center jockey that works upstairs in my building-I don't care. I don't care if you kill yourself or take 12 minutes off of your life with every drag. Smoke Up Johnny.  But when your filthy habits affect me. I get annoyed. There is a designated smoking area in our building. USE IT. Standing in a pack in front of the building just because there happens to be an ashtray there, is not an option. The ashtray is there so you can extinguish any smoking materials before you enter the building. It is not a beacon of puffitude telling you it's OK to light up.
 
I will continue to bug the property manager about the situation and to obnoxiously cough as I walk through their haze. Ours is the only building in this complex that has an ashtray out front. I can only imagine how it looks to our customers to have the dregs out front killing themselves one drag at a time. And I only get annoyed.
 
If you smoke, I know you don't care. You think it's your right, blah blah...being discriminated against..blah blah.  Whatever. I don't care. I don't care if you run around naked and shout hosannas at the top of your lungs...until it affects me.  Then I care.
 
Because it's all about me.
 
 

No comments:

Showing Some Love

If you are participating in National Novel Writing Month, you should know one thing. You are awesome. Keep that shit up. OK, you should k...