After 52 years I've finally realized that smoking is dangerous. No, not talking about all the physical ailments that might ensue (please refer to my mother's long lecture on the evils of tobacco when it was discovered that her younger son had taken up the pipe - she enjoyed THREE cigarettes while delivering her sermon), but about the mental health issues involved.
Insanity rubs off. Consider it a contact-high.
NOT ALL QUIET
I had re-entered the building after enjoying a delicious bit of tobacco. The other person in the elevator recognized me as a kindred spirit, possibly because of the friendly reek of fire and brimstone that still adhered, and gifted me with a long passionate account of his job and how disastrous it was for his social life. While doing so he forgot to key in his floor and rode up to mine. Vibrating and hissing, he was the paradigm of impotent rage against the evil capitalist machine.
His lyric eloquence kept him captivated for more than a dozen floors.
I've never seen him before, and wish to never see him again.
If his job is really that distressing, things might happen.
But he's a fellow smoker, and I should feel sorry.
Earlier this week I had seen one of the cigar smokers at the wall go off on a mime.
Mind you, I too am all in favour of mime-clearing. A mime is a horrible waste. But a fuming bald gentleman jumping up and down screaming about olive loaves and evil Russians, after having been taunted past reason by a mime, is not a pretty sight.
Aren't mimes supposed to shut up?
This one didn't.
A defective mime.
There are many other examples, but my point is that if I were to hole up at my desk all day, and not visit the real world for the occasional refreshing smoke, far fewer people with exceedingly rich inner lives would cross my path. Yes, the tension might get to me, but life would be more equilibrious.
Unlike me, some other smokers have 'issues'.
And should always be given a wide birth
Doings so maintains peace of mind.
Maybe I need to hang around with non-smokers.
Quietly in the back-ground, discretely perfuming their clothes.
I'm sure they wouldn't object, they'd probably find it comforting.
Young ladies especially should like my calming presence.
After all, I'm a pipesmoker; sane and charming.
And I smell like their favourite uncle.
If you need a man with a pipe at your next party, let me know.
TOBACCO INDEX
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NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
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3 comments:
I am a Pipe smoker also, in fact I was sitting to the left of you at the last pipe meeting (hint hint). I smoke a pipe for many reasons and one of them is to give me the composure to tolerate your typical recent x-smoker who now finds it necessary to exercise his or her newly found self-worth.
Amusing story: a few days ago, when I joined two other gentlemen at the wall with my pipe (already lit), one of them was still eating his lunch, and other had not lit up yet. I was, at that point, the only one of us smoking, which lasted for several more minutes. There was the occasional cough from several feet away, but I thought nothing of it. Harry came over, and happily lit up a big fat cigar. Whereupon the coughing person had a paroxysm - theatrical - and screamed "that's so RUDE" as she flounced away.
After he got over his surprise, Harry hollered "hey lady, have a NICE day" at the departing back. Bill just stood there with his mouth full of lunch and a happy grin on his face, and Chris smiled angelically. Within mere minutes, both of them had lit up too.
Those three, at that point, looked the very picture of happy contentment, at peace with the world, calm........
Beauty.
If you need a man with a pipe at your next party,
The next time I through a smell-o-rama party, I'll be sure to let you know.
In the meantime, sit tight.
Breathe.
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