Like A Chimney

((cough)) ((cough)) Ahhheemmmmm. There. Now my throat
is clear. Please pardon my phlemishness tonight. I smoked a
pack of cigarettes today. Oh, they weren't MY cigarettes. I
got to smoke them for free at the bowling alley, courtesy of
6 different people, while watching my kids' bowling league.

If you're a smoker, you may not want to read further. My wit
can cut like a knife. But this is one case where I hate the game,
not the player. Get yourself un-addicted to demon nicotine,
people. No good can come of it.

I've had friends who were smokers. I coughed and sputtered
every time they lit up. Not to be snarky, but because I couldn't
breathe, people. Yep. I am one of those fanatics who would
have you step outside to smoke. Not in MY house. I ain't
livin' in no used ashtray. No way, no how.

I know that a bowling alley is not exactly a hotbed of health.
But those folks didn't have to stand next to me, puffin' like
The Little Engine That Could Destroy My Alveoli. (That
one's for those of you who learned your anatomy and
physiology like a good little student.) Only one woman
had the manners to fan her smoke away from me. The
two men puffed like chimneys, oblivious to the tendrils of
pollutants that snaked their way up my nasal cavities. The
other woman acted like I had broken into her home and
sat my big fat butt down on her orange-and-brown plaid
couch with the wooden armrests and double-dipped my
Ruffles into her Prairie Farms French Onion Dip. But the
worst offenders were the 2 fifteen-year-old boys who
brought their own pool cues in little violin-like cases and
smoked during their game. Pool is not a game for smoking.
Which means one of them always had a cigarette smoldering
in the ashtray while he took his turn. Then one forgot to take
a drag, and both cigarettes laid together in sin, instigating a
squabble between Beavis and Butthead. "Hey! Which one
is mine? Did you put yours on that side, or is that mine?"
Yeah. You definitely wouldn't want to get any same-sex
lip-cooties in your oral cavity when you're sucking down
those carcinogens, now would you?

All this lighting up made our weekly family outing another
instance of people pissing me off. It's the kids' league.
I wasn't in a bar, or a casino. I expect smoke when I
go to a casino. I can't complain there, unless the offender
has the cigarette poked in my face by holding it and resting
his hand on the arm of the bandit. I think if you're going to
smoke, then puff, puff, puff that cigarette. Don't let it lie
fallow, smoldering its tobacky away into thin air. Suck
all that stuff into your own lungs, don't let it drift into mine.

Now I'm all riled up. I'm going to have to continue this
Public Service Announcement tomorrow. I still have a
lot to say.