I've had a couple of clients recently who have been, yes, smokers.
Now, I must admit that I, in fact, used to smoke. I finally had to quit when I went to work for Ralph Nader after I finished college. He actually sent me to SmokeEnders, and it stuck except for a couple of times when I smoked briefly between husbands.
The one thing that cured me was the really awful smell - even if you only smoke a few a day, it gets into clothing, hair, and sheets. And no matter how many mints a smoker chews, they don't work to eliminate smokers' breath.
Yesterday, I was with a smoking client, and we stopped at his favorite haunt on Capitol Hill to write an offer on a house he had seen. For the first time in ages, I came frighteningly close to bumming one.
I didn't.
My grandmother's voice was whispering in my ear, "Kissing a smoker is like kissing an ashtray, dear!" I looked at the ashtray on the table, and yeah, that would be pretty gross.
And as I was fighting off the urge to snatch one out of his pack of Camel Lights, I remembered they were never my brand, even when I was mooching. And I remembered another client, a little old lady who smoked Virginia Slims, who reeked of stale smoke and Estee Lauder, a particularly deadly combination.
So, while I successfully resisted the temptation, it amazed me that I was tempted at all!
Yikes!
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