Unless you've been living in a cave (or Wath-under-Dearne) for the last few months, you'll probably be aware that as of yesterday (1st July), smoking is no longer permitted in enclosed public spaces and places of work.
As a man who counts smoking as one of his favourite hobbies, this historic decision is hardly welcomed with open arms. I have unwillingly smoked my final fags in the pubs, clubs, greasy spoons and coffee shops where I spend what little disposable income I have.
Never again will I be able to lean against the wall of a discotheque, fag in mouth, trying my best to look like the Fonz....
(On reflection, this could well increase my chances of success with the fairer sex. I do tend to look like the bastard offspring of a chimney and a mental.)
When conversations get awkward, what will I do now to avoid eye contact with the other party? Stare at the place on the table where the ash tray used to be? If I over-use the other classic 'how-can-I-avoid-talking-to-you?' technique of popping to the toilet, it will probably be assumed that I have bowel cancer.
Perhaps the most jarring of all the changes is the dubious decison to ban smoking on train platforms. What the hell are you supposed to do while you wait for the inevitably late locomotive? Every smoker knows that cigarettes were invented to be taken with alcohol, coffee and to kill time whilst waiting for public transport. Yesterday, as I was returning from a rave in a somewhat (as the French say) twatted state, I was informed by a smug looking train official that if I didn't put my fag out I would be fined £80. Today, as I caught the train to work, a solitary Community Support Officer (henceforth known as Flidpigs) kept watch in case anyone had the audacity to smoke in the open air.
So, all in all, despite the numerous health benefits for the British population (which are undeniable), it's probably fair to say that I'm not desperately keen on having to nip outside for cancer stick come rain or shine. It is a good idea, but my inner five year old is longing to scream 'It's not fair!'
But who are the real winners and losers of the Smoking Ban?
The winners are surely the homeless. How many times have you witnessed some poor guy searching the streets for a fag-end to smoke? As of July 1st, those less fortunate than ourselves will be presented with a cornucopia of half-smoked Marlboro, Richmond and Benson, begging for a naked flame to give them second chance; redemption. Perhaps this was part of the plan all along - the redistribution of cigarettes from the rich to the poor; the classic story of Robin Hood, albeit cancerous. The systematic removal of the homeless could well be the most audacious of all Blair's legacies. But, until the tumours develop, the lives of those sleeping rough on the streets will be improved - our loss is their gain.
And the losers? Well, I reckon that'd be the Chinese and Tawainese. Think about it: who will need ashtrays now? Charity shops will be filled with ex-boozer ashtrays, and with the exception of the cretins who buy head-shop novelties, nobody will be in the market for a new receptacle to catch the ash of the cigarettes they can only smoke at home.
The Chinese probably won't be too concerned though. After all, they have the fastest growing economy in the world, and it'll mean more time can be spent on planning how to destroy Western civilisation.
And now reader, I will bid adieu, don the jacket of resignation and smoke the first of many post-ban cigarettes on the streets of South East London.
Until next time...
x
As a man who counts smoking as one of his favourite hobbies, this historic decision is hardly welcomed with open arms. I have unwillingly smoked my final fags in the pubs, clubs, greasy spoons and coffee shops where I spend what little disposable income I have.
Never again will I be able to lean against the wall of a discotheque, fag in mouth, trying my best to look like the Fonz....
(On reflection, this could well increase my chances of success with the fairer sex. I do tend to look like the bastard offspring of a chimney and a mental.)
When conversations get awkward, what will I do now to avoid eye contact with the other party? Stare at the place on the table where the ash tray used to be? If I over-use the other classic 'how-can-I-avoid-talking-to-you?' technique of popping to the toilet, it will probably be assumed that I have bowel cancer.
Perhaps the most jarring of all the changes is the dubious decison to ban smoking on train platforms. What the hell are you supposed to do while you wait for the inevitably late locomotive? Every smoker knows that cigarettes were invented to be taken with alcohol, coffee and to kill time whilst waiting for public transport. Yesterday, as I was returning from a rave in a somewhat (as the French say) twatted state, I was informed by a smug looking train official that if I didn't put my fag out I would be fined £80. Today, as I caught the train to work, a solitary Community Support Officer (henceforth known as Flidpigs) kept watch in case anyone had the audacity to smoke in the open air.
So, all in all, despite the numerous health benefits for the British population (which are undeniable), it's probably fair to say that I'm not desperately keen on having to nip outside for cancer stick come rain or shine. It is a good idea, but my inner five year old is longing to scream 'It's not fair!'
But who are the real winners and losers of the Smoking Ban?
The winners are surely the homeless. How many times have you witnessed some poor guy searching the streets for a fag-end to smoke? As of July 1st, those less fortunate than ourselves will be presented with a cornucopia of half-smoked Marlboro, Richmond and Benson, begging for a naked flame to give them second chance; redemption. Perhaps this was part of the plan all along - the redistribution of cigarettes from the rich to the poor; the classic story of Robin Hood, albeit cancerous. The systematic removal of the homeless could well be the most audacious of all Blair's legacies. But, until the tumours develop, the lives of those sleeping rough on the streets will be improved - our loss is their gain.
And the losers? Well, I reckon that'd be the Chinese and Tawainese. Think about it: who will need ashtrays now? Charity shops will be filled with ex-boozer ashtrays, and with the exception of the cretins who buy head-shop novelties, nobody will be in the market for a new receptacle to catch the ash of the cigarettes they can only smoke at home.
The Chinese probably won't be too concerned though. After all, they have the fastest growing economy in the world, and it'll mean more time can be spent on planning how to destroy Western civilisation.
And now reader, I will bid adieu, don the jacket of resignation and smoke the first of many post-ban cigarettes on the streets of South East London.
Until next time...
x
1 comment:
I didn't realise they'd banned it on train platforms as well. Thank God I quit and learned to drive.
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