As our little family walked in the door last night after running a couple of quick errands, one of the men that currently lives in the rental property a couple of doors down called up to my husband from his porch. He wanted to know if Sean smoked; apparently he was trying to bum a cigarette.
I have never smoked and my husband quit shortly after he expressed an interest in dating me because every thing about it just turns my stomach. One or two of my friends smoke, but I don’t generally go around kissing them and they don’t live in my house: so besides the fact that I love them very much and want them to live long and healthy lives, I can handle it.
Now I understand that bumming cigarettes is a relatively normal practice among people who smoke. Perhaps it is just because I am not a member of that social group and am therefore ignorant on what is deemed acceptable, but something in or about my sense of propriety finds it highly offensive to go around asking people, especially people you don’t know, for little rolls of expensive white paper to light on fire.
I don’t go around asking, “Hey, do you eat? Can you make me a piece of toast?”
Or, “Do you like chocolate? Mind if I have a nibble?”
Seriously. People would look at me like I had two heads. Better yet, “Do you have a vehicle? Great! I’m just going to siphon off a couple of gallons.”
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4 years ago