Seems the biggest anti-smoking zealots these days are little kids. I know, that's a good thing, but it's still annoying.
So I'm outside of my office, reading the paper during a midday break, Parliament in hand. I fashion myself as a polite smoker, so whenever kids (or adults, for that matter) approach, I make an extra effort not to to blow any carcinogens their way. But that didn't stop these two young girls from summoning a pretend, prolonged hack as they passed me by, with their mother. That'll teach that big bad smoker; at least that's the intent taken from their collective giggles as they entered the tanning salon next door. (Hey, I'll get cancer my way, you get it yours!)
Perhaps I should just accept the fact I'm now, officially, a pariah. Still, does anything grate on the nerves more than a self-righteous child?
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