A Memory from 1985

I once had the stereotypical sort of law office. The sort where a stranger comes through the door, speaks to a receptionist/secretary/gatekeeper, and in due course gets further, into the inner sanctum, my office proper.

It has been a long time since I had or needed that sort of office, but I will relay here a random memory about cigarettes.

A woman comes into my office. She had called ahead for an appointment, so I was ready for her. She comes in and asks rather diffidently whether she can smoke. I had an ashtray sitting on the client side of my desk just for such occasions, so the diffidence wasn't necessary. I said she should help herself. Thence the following dialog:

"Really? Almost nobody lets me light up in the office these days."

"Well, I grew up with two parents who were both chimneys. I'm quite used to second hand smoke...."

"That's not the point. This is YOUR office, you should be able to say no smoking here!"

"When I'm on the commuter train, I sometimes seek out the smoking car, figuring the people there are less uptight than those on the other cars."

At this she laughed, and finally lit it up.

I found it and still find it extraordinary that someone should attempt to argue me out of allowing them a simply courtesy.

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