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November 16, 2006

11.16.06

Today is the 30th Annual Great American Smokeout.

So go ahead. Light one up.

It might just be your last.

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Comments

We sat in the bar our cigar smoke gently rising above us. It was a special time of year as it was the one time the owner let everyone smoke en masse.

So incensed at the banning of smoking in bars was Bert that he declared his bar a "private club" to hold his "Annual Smoke In." Only regulars who had paid their annual $30 were allowed to attend. $30 was a "whip-round" as the tills were shut that night.

It started with a short prayer for his lawyers...who were there.

The health fascists were held at bay...for another year.

Posted by: Andrew Ian Dodge at November 16, 2006 8:17 AM · Permalink

dgar knew that the cops were after him, but he sat in the dusty old diner anyway.

“Can I get a pack of Players, please?” he asked his waitress.

She silently brought the package and a book of matches over to his table with a disapproving expression. He could tell that she thought that he shouldn’t be smoking.

Edgar peeled off the plastic wrap, soaking in the delicious and much missed fresh tobacco smell. It was heavenly. He peeled back the foil wrap, place the thin, white tube between his lips and lit up. Nothing quite like a fresh cigarette.

Posted by: Kait at November 16, 2006 10:46 AM · Permalink

I JUST NOW found that 100 Words is back! woohoo! I'll start submitting entries soon. Thanks for bringing it back!

Best,
Mr. P.

Posted by: Mr. Parx at November 16, 2006 10:21 PM · Permalink

I'm glad you found us, Mr. Parx. Welcome back!

Posted by: JIm Parkinson at November 16, 2006 11:50 PM · Permalink