One day I was standing in Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco. My ex-wife was with me. She was a non-smoker. Occasionally she would smoke to please me, but was usually really a jerk about it. Tis why she's an ex. Anyway. I was standing and smoking a Kent 100. being very showy. A youngish woman came up to me, watched me for a moment with an unlit cigarette in her mouth, and she said:
'You're going to die. Give me a light."
I gave her the light. She smiled as she exhaled, the blue smoke contrasting with her dark hair. She walked away.
I still think about her.