one last puff

So I made the oblivious move of being in a smoking-OK bar last night, otherwise known as One Last Puff Night, in which all smokers (including many not-usually-smokers, I suspect) celebrated and smoked in the establishment as one last testament to their lost freedom. Needless to say, while I had a nice time in said bar otherwise, my eyes and throat are KILLING me today and my coat smells like an ashtray. And my hair smells like an Aveda truck that caught on fire because even high-quality super-strong-smelling products can’t cover up the Marlboro Man’s distinctive scent. It was a monumental moment, that’s for sure – I just wish I weren’t such a smoke-baby. But, my throat and eyes rest assured with the knowledge that they’ll never have to go through that in Washington State again. Hooray for progress, even if it is controversial!

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