These days, people don’t smoke cigarettes.

Ersatz philosophers expound upon points, punctuating a particularly pertinent philosophical musing with a tilted head and a puff of smoke.

Budding authors use their discomfort with natural dialogue as an excuse for Sandy to say something “as she takes a drag off her cigarette.”

The social discontented imitate chimneys as their rebellion against the only thing left to rebel against - life. “Yes,” says Jason as he takes a drag off his cigarette, “I know these are going to kill me someday.” The defiance in his eyes screams the undertone “it’s better than suicide.”

The socialites arch their backs and close their eyes when leaving behind the newest train; the cloying scent announcing to all in their wake that they can afford the foreign kind.

Nobody smokes except maybe the old man on his front porch in the summertime, but that’s a pipe, and those don’t count anyhow.

I suppose you can thank the Truth ads, they hit ‘em while their young. People claim those adds to be a monumental step forward, but I can’t see them as anything different than those “cool” kids who are rumored to have sat around with infinite cartons of cigarettes, handing them out to whatever poor unsuspecting preteen comes up. There’s still someone “cooler” than you are dictating what choice you should make. Now it’s considered “uncool” to smoke unless you have an agenda, and even if you do, you’d better be ready to stand up and argue your right to suicide. Smoking isn’t the type of thing a person does to fit in with the crowd. People just don’t smoke anymore.