Saturday, after that damned Steelers game, we went out for drinks.
I'd forgotten how much I hate smoke-filled bars. Don't get me wrong. I love bars. But now that I'm almost 40, I can't stand walking out of one smelling like an ashtray. I got home after hitting three bars and immediately took a shower to get the smoke off me.
The night really made me appreciate the anti-smoking laws passed in major cities.
One of these days, after I hit the PowerBall, I'm going to open a non-smoking bar. Just to prove that it would be profitable. And so I could have a proper pint of Guinness without some hipster douches filling the air with Marlboro Light smoke.
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