April 18th, 2003



So I'm schlepping my sleep deprived ass into work; I just came in the hospital and am walking the last 1/4 mile to work. This woman behind me says "You smell like fine tobacco." Scooby-Huh?

"You ever want to quit?" I turn around. She's about 6 foot tall, cokebottle glasses, frizzy hair baretted into an optimally unattractive configuration, hips wide enough to birth sea-monsters. Not that I'm lookist about it or anything, but a woman you'd be afraid to approach in a bar for fear she's a really ugly tranny. "It's not hard to quit. Use wine. Of course you can get addicted to the wine. But it's easier to get off the wine than tobacco."

Now I had a friend in high school who quit smoking by smoking a joint every time he wanted a cigarette, but this is a new one on me -- might I point out that drinking makes me smoke more? "It doesn't have to be expensive, get it at John's [local liquor store cum grocery] -- get something dry, a little red, maybe some whate."

I wonder if the hospital is sending out nutjobs hell-bent on smoking reduction. It's no less absurd than some of the other programs they run.