I am not a smoker. I don't waste $5 a day on packs and don't bum them off of people. I don't feel the need for nicotine or have an incredibly decreased lung capacity. However, I miss the smell. I, who have probably smoked five cigarettes in my entire life, am itching for the scent of cigarettes. I have no desire to smoke, but would like it very much if the person next to me at the bar would light up or the person in the restaurant would puff my way. But they cannot. It has been over a year since public places just said no to smoking, and what a depressing no that was for me and every smoker in Ohio.
The bars feel empty without the thick wafting smoke. My hair still smells fresh after going to a bowling alley. Restaurants just aren't as fun without segregating the smokers into their badly separated section. Working isn't as fulfilling without smoke (or in my case, second-hand smoke) breaks.
They say that smells bring back nostalgic images. Well, what better way to recall that high school party where you first lit up and inevitably coughed for five minutes than with a whiff of smoke? How about freshman year of college when every person of course smoked and would sit outside in snow, sleet, rain and hail to prove that they were cool? What about long car rides and spring break hotel rooms? These memories could be lost forever, fading away like a cloud of smoke.
Strangers can't just sit outside and chat for no reason. Cigarettes bring people closer together. You could meet a guy by asking for a light. You could make a friend by offering a cig. You could run into old amigos at the Laundromat as you washed your smoky clothes after a night out. You could re-enact a scene from any cool movie by taking a long drag or impress others with blowing O's. You could convince yourself that you could change a bad boy or girl by making him or her quit that nasty habit. But now this entire dynamic is gone. We don't know who the smoky smokers are when we're indoors anymore. We can't sit at a restaurant table and pretend we're doing something. We nonsmokers can't slickly slide the ashtray toward our friends who need it. What boredom now ensues when we no longer have to dive and dodge the burning butts of cigarettes in a dimly lit and people-packed location.
The perfume of the nicotine gods has been replaced by fresh air and good healthy oxygen. The health organizations that are calling for greater and greater restrictions on smoking and an eventual ban on the product do not understand what they are doing to those of us who have grown accustomed to its aroma. All we want is a little second-hand smoke in our favorite places, the memories, the comfort, the coolness; all we want is just a little bit of the good stuff.
Caroline Melia is a junior journalism major. Send her an e-mail at cm246005@ohiou.edu.
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Caroline Melia
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