do you think the surgeon general smokes?

so on my way to work yesterday, i passed a very pretty girl driving a very pretty car. i happened to notice her cuz she almost hit me as i was passing her on the highway. when i looked over to shake my fist at her, i realized the reasoning of her subpar driving: she was texting with one hand and flicking her cigarette out the tiny crack of her window with the other. and you know, i wasn't even mad about the texting or the whole no-hands-on-the-wheel bit.

**i was upset about the cigarette.**

like i said, the girl was pretty. long flowing hair, dark complexion. i didn't get to gaze into her eyes or anything like that so i can't tell you what color her eyes were, but i thought that she was very attractive. until i saw that cigarette. that took away the prettiness and it was replaced with an image of an old wrinkled lady with a hacking cough, choking up a lung while sucking on her oxygen and cigarette alternately.

**not a very pretty site, huh?**

i can remember being in the ninth grade and playing soccer with a girl who, for the sake of this blog, i will call "jane doe." one day, while we were changing for practice, jane doe realized she had forgotten an extra practice shirt. because i had worn a t-shirt to school that day, i gave her my intended practice shirt, wore the same one i had on already, and we went out to practice. a couple of days later, we were again in the locker room getting ready to change and she mentioned that she had brought my shirt back, freshly washed the night prior by her mother. she pulls the shirt out of her bag, presses it to her face, and takes a long sniff and tells me how wonderfully clean it smelled, like fresh flowers or something. she throws it to me and tells me to smell. i lift the shirt to my nose and take a huge whiff . . . and **smell nothing but stale cigarette smoke.**

of course, i don't wanna hurt jane doe's feelings, so i lie to her and tell her how flowery it does smell as i stifle a cough and try to hold in the tears that have quickly formed in the corner of each eye. and because she has made such a big deal about how great this shirt smells, another girls grabs the shirt out of my hand and presses it to her nose. **and she isn't so nice.**

"EEEEEW!" i remember her screeching. "that doesn't smell flowery! that smells like cigarettes!" and she throws the shirt back at me. jane doe looks at me as if her feelings are hurt, and i shrug my shoulders, throw the shirt in my dirty clothes bag and locker and quickly run out to the practice field.

i don't really have a point to this blog, other than to say that i think smoking is dithguthting. i have a few friends who still do it and they all know my opinion. i am one of those people who makes a HUGE deal when someone lights up in front of me. i cough, i act like i can't breathe -- in general, **i make them feel bad** for doing it. i don't do it to insult anyone or to offend any smokers out there, however. i just prefer to breathe fresher air than a cloud of cigarette smoke allows. and okay, okay -- i guess i have to admit here that frankly, i kind of like being an ass sometimes.

**so sue me.**