EVERY DAY SINCE THE FLOOD

It turns out that because of the rain we are getting people have cabin-fever. Why, it's depressing, and they haven't been able to jog or run or even walk for days! They've scarcely gone out. They are suffering. The walls are closing in, the light is fading, there is no fresh air, it's so boooooring!
Omg!


Hello?

I am a pipe smoker.


Every day for the past several years I have been outside for intervals of half an hour or so. Multiple times. On Tuesday and Wednesday, which are my days off, I was outside for several hours. On Tuesday night I left the house at ten thirty, and I was outdoors when the heavens opened up after eleven.
I saw Grant Avenue in the darkness become silver and glowing from the splashback, and scattered street people running for cover.

Except for that last part, it was extremely nice.

You couldn't see the end of the block.

An otherworldly effect.


All of you wussy health freaks need to get off your fatnesses and go out there. Do you realize how lonely pipe smokers and cigar mavens have been? Well, do you?!? Disregard the cigar folks, we pipe smokers would have liked some company. Preferably nice well-bred and intelligent female company, fresh and sparkling, rather than the crazy druggies and unwashed psychos who lurked just beyond the edges of our vision, or the soggy cheroot-huffers, who smelled even worse than usual.
You do know that unlike pipes, cigars are distinctly putrid, don't you?
It's kind of like fermenting garbage, set on fire.
Pipe smokers smell nice.


"In a way I don't mind people who are gross."


That's a quote from the apartment mate. What's significant is that she was talking about some non-smokers. It makes sense to me, even I will put up with non-smokers, though I don't consider them gross. And perhaps she didn't mean 'all of them'. In rainy weather everyone smells like wet dog.
I have known several people who were complete non-smokers. What they all had in common was a heartlessness and inconsideration of their fellows out in the rain fifteen feet from operable doorways and windows in the financial district. It did not matter to them at all that we were risking pneumonia for their comfort, their pretentious sense of well-being.

If you think pipe smoke smells like home, befriend a smoker.
He (or she) will appreciate your company.


You can hog the umbrella.



==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================