I grew up vampire years ago. I remember when going out to eat you got to decided where to sit, not just booth or table. No, it took thought and consideration. You could choose the bar full of smell of rotten lager with smear of ashtray, but more like ass-tray.
Then there was the border. You could sit right on the smoking border either side one was supposed to worse than the other, but not really. Now, you are down the wire. You have two booths available for the border of smoking and the nonsmoking section. This is where things get tricky, so you send the one in your party that has that sensitive nose. Yep, send them in for the sniff.
“Bo-ya! The sniff test is complete. Now, time for the risk assessment test. You have one table of older ladies smoking those fancy menthols wearing lots of perfume or you can take the table of older men smoking Marlboros and Swisher Sweets where cologne is fragrant, not too strong.
You and your dining party must make a decision, STAT. Do you eat hearty meats with your Marlboro smokers, or do you go for some fish or sandwiches with you perfume wearing Menthol smokers?
Oh, snap! I forgot to add you are a non-smoker. Yep, you never did it. Never wanted it.
Laws stopped that shit. Maybe the cops or off duty cops were just tired of waiting for people to make a choice on a table. I am just happy to not have my eyes burn while I try to shove food in my mouth.
Why now talk about this, because like fashion and the Divine Comedy all things come back in a circle. Yes, what do we call this? History, yes, my friends, you don’t get that shit in school, so let me break it down. All things happen. It breaks. We fix it. Things happen again. It breaks. Now we have to fix it, again. History, it ‘s pretty cool. Don’t want to read about it. Watch it on the History Channel, very cool stuff there.
Tonight, I went for a FROYO, frozen yogurt in fancy letters. I’m sitting outside reading Fitzgerald’s “This Side of Paradise” eating when the person in car near my patio table starts smoking a joint. I wasn’t looking. I was smelling. I’ve never ever in life puffed on that shit. Why? Well, it smells like cat shit to me. It disgusts me. I turn around and give that waving arm signal.
Nothing, smoke is just coming out of this person’s widow. The smell is getting stronger. I’m not feeling good, because I’m on steroids. I finally shout out, “Roll it up! I can smell you joint.”
Of course, like any good citizen of 2019, they do nothing. I get up. I gather my book and push my dog stroller into the yogurt shop to finish. I’m upset, but I go back to reading.
Then no shit, the puffer and driver of the puffing magic car comes and stands beside me. Nice, well dressed young adult male says, “You hurt my feelings.” He puts his hand on my dog-stroller. “You see, I need my smoke like you need this dog.”
I look at the man like he is a fool. Pull out my hearing aids to show my handicap.
He speaks, “Your disability is physical. Mine isn’t, but just as serious.”
I shook my head in agreement. “You’re right. I was an ass to you. I just don’t understand why you kids don’t do like they did in the 70’s and 80’s and roll up your windows. Get all that smoke up in there.”
“I don’t like how it smells either. I just want a puff. That is why my windows were down. I saw you there reading. I thought about how bad I felt ruining your night. You read to relax. I smoke.”
“Hey, you know what? You’re right. I’m an ass. I’m an old ass. Times are changing. It’s Lent. We all need to get along, so I’m sorry.” I said this kind sympathic young adult pot smoker.
The young man gave me a hug. Then he left. I stayed indoors to finish my reading.
Why am I writing this? Well, our society is broken, again. We need to fix this. I don’t want to have to choose smelling marijuana anytime I want to sit outside to eat. I don’t know laws. I’m not a lawyer, but maybe some of them should come up with a clue on how to fix this. Maybe there are already laws. I would like the laws posted like the “Drinking while pregnant will hurt the unborn child.” What if we just designate parking for those who do smoke? Call it puff on a run. Sell permits to use that and create more revenue for the city.
I’m all in for a smoking parking section. I will take non-smoking any day. I’m also for the right of speaking up for those who can’t or won’t , either they have a weak spine, no spine, child, old, or animal, don’t puff or smoke any substance around those. For the love of humanity, I do think we can all get along. Let’s just have a little compassion.
Love your non-smoking friend with a highly sensitive nose,