Surgeon General's Warning

Peering out the office window on a cold and dreary winter afternoon, I can't help but snicker at the crowd of poor saps huddled outside the building. They are always there at their regular intervals, not because they are locked out, but because they're smoking.

Maybe I'm going to offend a lot of people, but if you were born circa 1975 or later and you smoke, well, you my friend, suck. It's one thing if you're from an older generation when smoking was pretty much a universally accepted practice. But if you grew up in the mid '70s or later, as the anti-smoking movement really gained legs (although the United States banned cigarette TV commercials in 1971), you have no excuse to be a smoker besides the fact that you are a weak person.

Be honest. You started smoking in high school or maybe even in college, as a way to rebel against your parents and try to be cool. And maybe it worked. Maybe it made you cool in high school and launched a series of events that got you to second base on your prom night. And now you can't stop. Now you're spending 8 bucks a pack. Now you're told to get the hell out of the bar if you want to light up. Now the value of your property plummets if you smoked inside on a regular basis. Now your insurance rates are higher. Now you can't seem to get up and down the basketball court in those pickup games quite like you used to, and you always feel a bit extra tired. Now your clothes stink and your voice is starting to get raspy.

"Oh, but I have a stressful job, I need it to relax." Riiiiight (you know, you could try working out a few times a week to alleviate that stress, but you're too tired for that, yes?). "Oh, it's ok, I only have a few when I'm drunk." Uh-huh. You were weak then because you started smoking as an all-out effort for short-term social status, and you're weak now because a.) you can't admit to such things, and b.) you can't commit yourself to quitting. I love how these morons in my office, the vast majority of whom blow at their jobs as it is, take 30-45 minutes out of their day to bundle up, go out into the piss cold of January, and slowly kill themselves. So you're that committed to your little habit that you'll go through such measures just to knowingly harm yourself, but somehow finding it in you to kick said habit is "too tough?"

I find it even funnier (and by funnier, I mean terrible) when a woman gets pregnant, valiantly manages to not smoke for 9 months, and then practically has the lighter ready the second that baby is popped out of there. So let me get this straight - you were motivated enough to not harm your yet-to-be-born baby as it grew inside you for 9 months, but not motivated enough to keep from subjecting it to secondhand smoke thereafter?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to start working on opening up a hot chocolate/coffee/donut stand right next to where all the aforementioned Mensa members congregate outside the office. If everyone else is making money off of these shitbirds, then I might as well too.