Since some of my American friends may be thinking I’m giving too much adoration to Europeans lately, I thought I’d continue a rant about something that miffs me and that I deplore: the omniprescent cigarette.
I am sitting at a cafe along a main drag in Corsica’s Ajaccio in France.
Perched up close to her bistro table, she takes another puff of her thinner than average cigarette. Are they not the ones with 10x more nicotine?
Why the F-K do so many Europeans still smoke? I ask myself and others this question over and over again. Ashtrays dress every restaurant and cafe table and the first thing I do when I sit down is move it to the floor.
My poor strangled lungs. They have become so pure from all that good Californian living that even at an outside cafe, my throat and nose feel the ugly effects as the wind blows her puff in my direction. “Save your skin my dear,” I mouth her way.
Both England and France have passed legislation banning smoking in certain public places, although this clearly has not gone into effect yet, at least not in any cafe, bar or restaurant I went to in Paris, London or Corsica this summer. Will there be a revolt? What year will we anti-smoking pioneers be able to breathe freely in Europe?
Check out my Death by Match post for a few more giggles.