Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers may have danced to the tune in the 1930's but the line was still very relevant to me today.
On the way to work this morning, I was poked in the eye by a young lady waving her fag around like she was Cruella De Vil. It occurred to me that smokers seem to be rather more inconsiderate than your average.
So I then made some further observations on the rest of my journey. I noticed the preparation ritual. For fear of breathing fresh air when exiting the tube, they ready themselves, poking around in handbags and pockets for a lighter. At the top of the stairs, oblivious to the masses behind them, they pause momentarily to light up, causing a pile up and much tutting from people like me.
Then they saunter along the pavement, in a gentle zig-zag to ensure nobody can pass, with a sneer that says “I’ll get there in my own sweet time”.
The builders in Goswell Road enjoy their eternal fag break next to the dance school. The object of the game is to stand on the narrow pavement with the fag-bearing arm poking out at a jaunty angle designed to cause the most inconvenience to passers by.
So is it just me, or do smokers tend to exude an attitude that sticks two fingers up at the world?
To take this rant back to brands, I remember in the early 90s there was that brand of cigarettes called “Death” that sold very well. I think I will write to Gallaher Group and suggest that they create a new brand call ”F’ You” – I’m sure it will sell like crazy.
