THE WAY I SEE IT: Smokers, be more considerate of others

             I will make a confession to you: cigarette smoke brings out the worst in me. If you happen to be loitering next to a doorway, as it is the middle of winter and you are clearly hoping to get as close as possible to a heat source, I perversely wish to make you, the smoker, feel as guilty as possible. I cough. I send pointed looks. It is almost as if my evil counterpart, whose existence remains fortunately hidden most of the time, makes an appearance any time I am forced to inhale any of your acrid smoke. 

            I'm sorry, but what are you doing standing so close to the entryway of my building, anyway?  A federal regulation requires you to maintain at least a reasonable distance from most buildings at all times. It would seem that with the signs on campus prohibiting smoking near the doors, the message would be clear. I get it — this is college, and no one cares. You're not darkening the doorstep of a family restaurant, or even a convenience store, where someone might come out to shoo you and rebuke you for your habit. Your mom isn't going to pop out of the bushes and cry over your wayward ways. 

            It would hardly be "cool" and "so college" of me to spoil your fun. But I make no bones about being completely selfish in my reasons for wishing you would stop. If you just happen to be smoking outside, standing with a friend or two, then by all means, continue. Everyone is allowed their vices, and it would be an exercise in futility to chastise a generation that has grown up surrounded by a surplus of information concerning the harmful effects of smoking. If you stand unnecessarily close to the vestibules, though, it becomes a source for my frustration. 

            Every time the door to the building is opened, the stench of cigarettes gets trapped inside the entryway, where people stop to swipe their Wildcards. Which means that while I'm searching madly for my card, per usual stuck at the bottom of my bag, the smoke gets trapped in my hair, or on my clothes. 

            Selfish, I know. It only further hurts your case that I loathe doing laundry.  It's a constant battle for one of what always seems to be too few machines in the laundry room, regardless of where you live. So when a sweater becomes even just a little bit scented with the smell of cigarettes, it only fuels my irritation as I toss it into my ever-growing pile of wash and think to myself, I should really go check and see if a washer is open.

            Everyone has something they would be hard pressed to give up. You could be an adrenaline junkie or couldn't get enough of "The Hills" in its heyday. Each year, I resolve to give up caffeine, and within a week or two at best, I am again in line at Holy Grounds. So I could hardly criticize anyone for a particular vice. It's just that I choose not to smoke and would prefer not to have my air suffused with smoke. You don't see me spilling my green tea down your throat and demanding you drink. Any time I enter my building, I feel that it is a personal right of mine to breathe clean air. To pollute the air in the residence halls frankly assumes a lot.  

            I did not create the law, but I confess that I am happy it is in place. I recognize that it's cold, but please — if you have to step outside to satisfy your urge for the little death sticks every hour even in the coldest months, wasn't that a choice you consciously made?