DON'T LET THE BEAR FIND OUT

There are times that I wished I lived closer to Chinatown. You may blame my apartment mate for that. Her fault. And her Chinese-American heritage has nothing to do with it.

The situation is this: after she leaves in the morning I sneck her door tight, open two or three windows wide for ventilation, and light up. I am currently not fully engaged in the work process, and get to stay home several days a week, you see. And she is a vociferous non-smoker.
As long as I've known her, she has disliked tobacco.
When we were still a couple, I'd wash my face and brush my teeth several times daily, so as not to offend her delicate sensibilities.
Since our relationship ended three years ago I need not be anywhere near so fastidious; ain't nobody gonna kiss me today. The only rules still in force are that the apartment should not stink, and her Teddy Bear should NEVER smell like tobacco.
The Teddy Bear lives in her room.

For several hours a day the apartment stinks like you wouldn't believe, oh boy. Yep, mister Badger (me) is waltzing around in tasteful boxers or jam-pants, wearing a floppy shirt only barely buttoned, with a briar pipe jauntily sticking out of his mouth. Big grin, usually.
La la la, I'm enjoying myself.

The Teddy Bear, who might rat on me if she knew, is safely ensconced in a sealed room, and will never know what's going on. I've bribed some of the other stuffed animals to keep their mouths shut. Our household banana and grass-suckies budget has gone through the roof.

Man, this place smells nice!

Heck, I smell nice.

Smoky!


By mid-afternoon, the smoking indoors stops. Need to let the place air out. Any further pipe enjoyment will take place while mister Badger is out wandering around the neighborhood.
Then later on when he's gone for a tea-time snack in Chinatown.
And perhaps in early evening, on the front steps.

Good thing the weather has improved.
Sensible animals hate the rain.
It's bad for their pipes.


I tend to regard Chinatown as my smoking room. Nobody says anything negative about the sooty whisps, there's one or two places where coffee and a small pastry may be had even after dark fall, and there are bright lights, interesting stores, and noise. If it were just two or so blocks away, strolling over while smoking would be easy.
In my own neighborhood, people tend to look askance at smokers, almost as if we're infected with the plague. Well, sneering yuppie white people do.
The Chinese who live here assume that like them we're out for a breath of fresh air and some excercise. While smoking.

A mature man having a pipe is clearly not a dissolute type.
Unlike cigarette-huffing twenty-somethings.
All of whom act reprehensible.


I would've loved a 皮蛋酥 and a cup of milk-tea yesterday evening before lighting up my pipe. Instead I got to see twenty-somethings acting tipsy.
It isn't the same.



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