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SMOKING DEBATE
Boarding the bus
at the Port Authority in NYC
stepping over empty beer cans
and old scattered newspapers
heading to Providence, RI
for no particular reason other
than never being there before
I find a seat towards the back
near the bathroom
I take a window seat and open up
A beat up copy of On The Road
I have a cold can of beer
Wrapped in a brown paper bag
The rest of the six pack
is in a small cooler
There’s two people having
an argument about smoking
“Do you know what 2nd hand smoke can do?”
“Get off my back. It’s the smoking section.”
I sip my beer and dart my eyes
away from an old lady giving me
dirty looks and frowning upon me.
“Weell, fuck you, hag!”
I think but keep it to myself
“. . .that smoke is nauseating.”
“Listen, I don’t wanna hear it.”
I’m hoping we don’t get subjected
to an impromptu fist fight
I no longer have an interest
in the book I brought for the ride
I take another swig of beer
and ignore my favorite old lady
who sniffles at me as she walks by
to the bathroom
“the surgeon general warns. . . “
I’m tired of this smoking debate
that’s starting to get on my nerves.
“I have a right to poison my own lungs.”
“but not mine.”
The argument is getting old
and I feel like thrashing both of them
All I want to do is ride the damn bus
without the non-stop inanity
of these idiots who don’t seem to have
real lives of their own.
so they go out of their way
to aggravate the shit
out of me
but by this point
I’m not even sure it matters
My beer is empty so I put it
in a bag and pull out a new one
It’s doesn’t annoy me anymore
These idiots will be gone
after another painful hour.
