You have to feel even a little sorry for smokers these days. Not only do they have to be reminded that 'SMOKING KILLS' each time they reach for a pack, but they've also been, for a while now, a preferred beating stick of the tax man.
Taxing cigarettes is a largely guilt-free way of raising revenue. They shouldn't be smoking anyway, the thinking is. So year after year, smokers have been hit with state-imposed increases. With all that pressure, no wonder they smoke
cheapest Dunhill cigarettes.
This new ban on smoking in public places will only add to the indignity of being a smoker in 2013. For years, they've been prevented from lighting up on airplanes, even though, given news reports of drunken pilots, terrorist plots, and faulty landing gear, a cigarette might have done the nerves a world of good. They've had to contend with strict no-smoking rules in all sorts of places when they travel to the US and even parts of one-time smoker-friendly Europe.
Yes, the walls have been closing in. Now, even in good old Jamrock, the land of anything goes, smokers are faced with the reality that the only really safe place to smoke is at home. Who wants to smoke at home? That's like drinking at home. I'm not a smoker, never been, but I imagine that there's a social aspect to smoking that can't be fulfilled if you're puffing on a cig, alone, between an ironing board and a garden hose. It just doesn't work.
BAN WELCOMED
Personally, I welcome the ban. Growing up, I never had a problem inhaling second-hand smoke. In fact, I rather liked the scent of a burning cigarette. (As an aside, this might explain why I'm still mystified by mathematical equations made up of three or more Xs and Ys). But as the anti-smoking campaigns started growing and I began to realise the ill effects the smoke could cause, I started avoiding second-hand smoke whenever possible.
If nothing else, this ban will help eliminate some awkward conversations I've had to have with smokers. I was in a cramped restaurant once when a clearly agitated woman next to me retrieved from the confines of her ample bosom a pack of cigarettes and a lighter ironically emblazoned with a picture of the Pope. Here we go, I thought. I'll have to move. To my surprise though, the woman turned to me and said, "Does the smoke bother you?" Pleased by her thoughtful consideration, I wanted to find a nice way to say yes, it does bother me. "Well, I do kind of have a ..."