[ Post a Response | The Sublime Desire of Cigarette Smoking ]
Posted by Marcus on November 8, 2008, 7:34 pm
I have had to travel for my job quite a bit in the last six weeks or so. (Three trips in September and three so far this month) Fortunately, my airport has a smoking lounge on almost every concourse. After going through security, I usually have a couple of hours to kill, so I buy a cup of coffee, find the lounge, and settle in for the duration. The range of people one observes and meets is fascinating to me. Most appear to be between late 30’s/early 40’s and early to mid 60’s, with a handful of much older people; but there is always a good mix of younger people as well. There are teenagers who are either traveling alone or have managed to get away from there parents for a while under some other pretext. They are interesting to watch because, despite all there self-proclaimed confidence, they usually appear very uneasy and nervous. There are also usually a few people who appear to be in their 20’s to mid 30’s. They tend to leave after one or two cigarettes and then return a little while later for one or two more. Only a few of us, usually representative of the full age range, settle in for a while. The exception being airline and military personnel, who tend to take root for the entire time they are waiting for their flight. (If someone is going to be flying my plane or saving my life when it crashes, I sure as hell don’t want them going through nicotine withdrawal; and anyone who may get shot because of their job deserves to smoke as much or often as he/she wants and or needs.)
The lounges are roughly 15 X 18 ft. rooms with almost no ventilation. Thick doesn’t begin to describe the air, and the windows are so coated with tar and nicotine that they are a dark amber color. I once asked a custodial person how often they were cleaned and he told me every other day during the graveyard shift, but they were never able to get them really clean. People usually don’t comment on the conditions except to complain lightly about the lack of ventilation, but my most recent trip brought an interesting overheard exchange between a couple of women who sat down across from me and appeared to be around my age (late 30’s) They sat down, lit up, and one of them looked around. I paraphrase:
“I guess this is what it’s like in our lungs.”
“Don’t kid yourself. Our lungs probably haven’t been this clean in years. You can still see through the windows.”
(Laughing lightly) “Yeah, and there aren’t any pre-cancerous tumors.”
“If this doesn’t make me want to quit, nothing will.”
“I’ll believe you’re going to quit when I see you start running again. You’re just as bad as I am. If it wasn’t bad for you, you wouldn’t do it.”
(Flushing a little and chuckling) “Of course not, then it wouldn’t be any fun. That doesn’t mean I have to like being reminded that I’m killing myself. It would be nice to be able to take the stairs to the storeroom without having to catch my breath at the top.”
“As long as you can still catch your breath you’re okay. I figure at this point I might as well just enjoy it and take my chances.”
The woman who had mad the comment about not liking to have to catch her breath after taking the stairs to the storeroom gave a sort of shrug and changed the subject. When they had finished their cigarettes, one of them checked her watch and said they had time for another. They lit up again and one of them said something about the poor ventilation. Again, I paraphrase:
“We’ve probably inhaled a couple of cigarette’s worth of second hand smoke just sitting here.”
“Probably, but if I cared about what I breathe, I wouldn’t smoke.”
I would love to have a conversation with them. I think that under the right circumstances it could be quite stimulating.
Responses: