Nanny Nanny Boo Boo

Yesterday, while smoking under an overhang at the end of a building on my company’s campus, I was told to move. It was pouring rain.

This is happening because I-901 passed in Washington State. The initiative bans smoking in all public spaces and inside all work places and prohibits smokers from smoking with in 25 feet of any vent, air intake, or entrance that people may use to enter buildings.

Now I’m the type of smoker that won’t smoke in my own house, because it’s just stinky. I vote for tax increases on cigarettes and most likely would have voted for I 901 had it not been for the 25 foot rule…which is absolutely ridiculous.

Anyway back to yesterday’s incident. The person that told me not to smoke was our Facilities Manager, who didn’t accidentally run into me out there, but was looking for me. I could tell this because she was running around in the rain trying to figure out where exactly I was. See, I choose this little nook that is as far away from the door as possible and is obscured from view from all sides except for one.

Do you know how many people hang out at the end of a building in the freezing rain (did I mention I live in Seattle) on a typical day? No? Me either. But I can tell you that if I’m there (and I’m only there because I’m smoking) the number of people I’ve seen with in 25 feet of me is zero. None, nada, zip.

So someone ratted me out. Maybe saw the KNOWN smoker exiting the building. Why? Because they were standing next to me and were being impacted? No. Because the smoke was entering the building? No. Because they are little people with absolutely nothing else to do? I’m thinking yes.

Ah well, that’s fine. If them following me around to see where I smoke works for them, then it works for me. Because if I want a fag in the middle of a torrential down pour, screw you. Go the f#*k back inside.