I got this idea the other day, when, to my chagrin, I found myself alongside a car at a set of traffic lights. The car was to the right of me, and the passenger in the front of the car was smoking. My window was down, and so was his.
Stinky.
I wound my window up with a grumble. But as I did so, I thought, why am I winding up my window? He should be winding up HIS window!
And like so many of the universe's eternal mysteries, another wonderful idea miraculously began to form.
In its embryonic stage, I felt myself leaning towards the decree that all smokers in cars must do so with windows wound up. I mean, if the smokers themselves can't put up with the smoke and the stink, why should the rest of us?
But then, I had a flashback to my time in places like Thailand, China and Vietnam, where it's decidedly de rigueur to see people smoking whilst astride their moving scooters. And then it dawned on me; all smokers must smoke from within the confines of a motorcycle helmet at all times.
Not only is this a boon for those of us who've decided not to make the poisoning of oneself into an all-consuming habit, but it's actually good news for smokers themselves. Once again, smokers can smoke virtually anywhere they like!
With the possible exception of banks (for security reasons, of course), smokers will he able to suck away of their toxins with nary an influence on the outside world. And I'd reckon that when encased within about eight cubic centimetres of air space, even the ultra-mild brands are going to pack some punch. Heck, if you try to smoke the double-barrelled red-label raw diesel varieties that only those working on cray boats would even contemplate using, you'd have a face like black minstrel after just one dart...
Obviously, the helmet would need some modifications. Some kind of air filtering system, and possibly a small generator. But I think that's a small price to pay. Given that even the wildlife smoke in most parts of Asia, the reduction in atmospheric pollution would be pretty darn impressive, I'd wager.
So there it is. There's no zealot like a reformed smoker, and I've been waiting for a moment of inspiration like this to strike.
But until I can get my helmet design through the arduous patent stage, I'm going to elevate PLAN B off the bench. Whenever someone lights up in my vicinity, I'm going to set fire to the car tyre (stuffed with human hair) that I just happen to have with me.
If they can blow smoke, so can I. And smokers, beware; I'll be packin' more than a Winnie Blue.
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