When Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
And your clothes and your hair and even your shoes.
There are a lot of things I enjoyed in my younger days but that I don't actually miss.
One of those things was getting dressed up to go out to clubs with loud music and dancing and partying until last call. Now, I want to go where my friends and I can converse without yelling and where I can wear jeans and a t-shirt and not look underdressed. I still stay out late compared to my companions but my days of staying for the after hours party are long gone.
Another thing that I don't miss is coming home reeking of smoke. There were no smoking restrictions back then so I'd come home in the wee hours of the morning and have the mental debate of whether to shower before going to bed or not. If I showered, I wouldn't wake up with my pillow and my hair completely infused with smoke. If I didn't shower, I wouldn't wake up with a pillow and hair that was still wet. There was no way I was drying it before I went to bed since I usually had to get up in only a couple of hours for work or school.
Usually, I skipped the shower which I always regretted in the morning. However, either way, once you hit the shower and the water hit your hair the whole smoke smell came out even stronger. Ugh.
Fortunately, most places have restrictions now (that I actually voted against, free will and all that) where people can't smoke inside. I have to admit that I like it a lot. What I don't like is when my smoking friends spend half of their evenings outside to feed their habit instead of being involved inside with their companions.
Last night, the club had a happy hour at Greasewood Flat. It's a great outdoor cowboy place with picnic tables, live music and a concrete slab dance floor ringed with fire pits. They supply plenty of wood and, when it's cold out as it was last night, you really enjoy being close to the fire's warmth.
Until the breeze shifts the smoke and you're suddenly engulfed while your eyes water like you're watching Old Yeller. It becomes a balance game. Stay close enough to the fire to be warm but far enough away to avoid the smoke.
I lost the game. I walked in to the house last night and went right to the washing machine. In went my clothes, including my jacket.
Did I take a shower? No, but I should have. My pillow cases are going into the wash today.
There are a lot of things I enjoyed in my younger days but that I don't actually miss.
One of those things was getting dressed up to go out to clubs with loud music and dancing and partying until last call. Now, I want to go where my friends and I can converse without yelling and where I can wear jeans and a t-shirt and not look underdressed. I still stay out late compared to my companions but my days of staying for the after hours party are long gone.
Another thing that I don't miss is coming home reeking of smoke. There were no smoking restrictions back then so I'd come home in the wee hours of the morning and have the mental debate of whether to shower before going to bed or not. If I showered, I wouldn't wake up with my pillow and my hair completely infused with smoke. If I didn't shower, I wouldn't wake up with a pillow and hair that was still wet. There was no way I was drying it before I went to bed since I usually had to get up in only a couple of hours for work or school.
Usually, I skipped the shower which I always regretted in the morning. However, either way, once you hit the shower and the water hit your hair the whole smoke smell came out even stronger. Ugh.
Fortunately, most places have restrictions now (that I actually voted against, free will and all that) where people can't smoke inside. I have to admit that I like it a lot. What I don't like is when my smoking friends spend half of their evenings outside to feed their habit instead of being involved inside with their companions.
Last night, the club had a happy hour at Greasewood Flat. It's a great outdoor cowboy place with picnic tables, live music and a concrete slab dance floor ringed with fire pits. They supply plenty of wood and, when it's cold out as it was last night, you really enjoy being close to the fire's warmth.
Until the breeze shifts the smoke and you're suddenly engulfed while your eyes water like you're watching Old Yeller. It becomes a balance game. Stay close enough to the fire to be warm but far enough away to avoid the smoke.
I lost the game. I walked in to the house last night and went right to the washing machine. In went my clothes, including my jacket.
Did I take a shower? No, but I should have. My pillow cases are going into the wash today.
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