Inspired by sibn
I have always hated being asked for cigarettes (I recently started smoking again, by the by). One of the main reasons I never wanted to start was because I knew I would be hit up by assholes on the street, asking for smokes. I really, really hate people who impose on me and my space, be it by talking in a movie theater, driving exceptionally slow (or fast!), or by asking for my cigarettes.
My favorite story about smoke-bummers (which I've probably told before): One time, when I was living in Portland, Jesse and I were at Rock Creek, waiting for the bus. We're both smoking and this dude walks up and decides to hit Jesse up first: "Hey man, gotta smoke?" Now Jesse was a rather large guy, tall, and solid; the type of guy I would not hit up first for a cigarette at a bus stop. Jesse looks at the guy, takes a huge drag, and then exhales a voluminous amount of smoke in the guy's face while saying, "I don't smoke." The look on the guy's face was priceless. After his initial shock wore off, he asked me for one, and I got him to pay me $.50 for it. Fair's fair.
During one of the recent Jacksonville-to-Louisiana-and-back trips, Dana and I were stopped at a gas station so we could fill up and I could smoke. We were against the side of the building, in the shade, when this car pulls up to the pump. This little dude gets out and makes a beeline to us; it was like I had a tracking device in my mouth and he was tuned right the fuck in. Begrudgingly, I give him a smoke, which he tucks behind his ear before trotting into the store. As I'm finishing my smoke a few minutes later, I see the dude come out, my cigarette tucked behind his ear, and packing a fucking box of Kools on the way back to his car! I'm still livid about it. I mean, I smoke du Maurier (as exclusively as I can), and they're expensive as hell. Kools are like the recycled toilet paper of cigarettes. That fucking asshole took one of my nice, expensive cigarettes and then bought a shitty pack for himself! He had money! Christ, what an asshole!
I swear, next time I am at a gas station on the highway and I am smoking and someone asks for a cigarette, I will point to the store and say, "There's a building full of cigarettes right there." Yeah, that'll show em.
Relatedly, this poem is linked off of the du Maurier page. Interesting.
My favorite story about smoke-bummers (which I've probably told before): One time, when I was living in Portland, Jesse and I were at Rock Creek, waiting for the bus. We're both smoking and this dude walks up and decides to hit Jesse up first: "Hey man, gotta smoke?" Now Jesse was a rather large guy, tall, and solid; the type of guy I would not hit up first for a cigarette at a bus stop. Jesse looks at the guy, takes a huge drag, and then exhales a voluminous amount of smoke in the guy's face while saying, "I don't smoke." The look on the guy's face was priceless. After his initial shock wore off, he asked me for one, and I got him to pay me $.50 for it. Fair's fair.
During one of the recent Jacksonville-to-Louisiana-and-back trips, Dana and I were stopped at a gas station so we could fill up and I could smoke. We were against the side of the building, in the shade, when this car pulls up to the pump. This little dude gets out and makes a beeline to us; it was like I had a tracking device in my mouth and he was tuned right the fuck in. Begrudgingly, I give him a smoke, which he tucks behind his ear before trotting into the store. As I'm finishing my smoke a few minutes later, I see the dude come out, my cigarette tucked behind his ear, and packing a fucking box of Kools on the way back to his car! I'm still livid about it. I mean, I smoke du Maurier (as exclusively as I can), and they're expensive as hell. Kools are like the recycled toilet paper of cigarettes. That fucking asshole took one of my nice, expensive cigarettes and then bought a shitty pack for himself! He had money! Christ, what an asshole!
I swear, next time I am at a gas station on the highway and I am smoking and someone asks for a cigarette, I will point to the store and say, "There's a building full of cigarettes right there." Yeah, that'll show em.
Relatedly, this poem is linked off of the du Maurier page. Interesting.