Street Smoker’s Sidle


Smoking Fiction

I found a place to submit a story about smoking, no smoking in fact. This fits in perfectly with the Reason to Write Project.  My primary challenge is I cannot share the actual story with you until (or if) it is published. So you get the primer, the reason I wrote the story instead.

Street Smoker’s Sidle

I hate smokers. I used to be a heavy smoker for 5 years, so I have some right to these strong feelings. In retrospect I am disgusted with my own behaviour although I quit over 20 years ago. 

I did not smoke at dinner tables or in the presence of children, but I did do the street smoker sidle. I was as oblivious as all the orally fixated people are today. Puffs of smoke billowing out from their mouths upon all those behind them, wherever the wind blows. I find myself dodging the smoke clouds on a regular basis. And when you are on your way to a meeting or an interview, that smell lingers and permeates my clothing long after you have disappeared from view. And then this potential employer also thinks I smoke, which is bad for their insurance rates, you know.

I beg you, if you are a street smoker, remember all of us behind you being engulfed by your smelly habit. Please be considerate. I don’t pull my hair in public. Can you try to keep your smoke to yourself?

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