Burning Down The… Hood?
Today, I was in the beauty supply store that my sister works in, when a woman in her mid-70s walks in, reeking of cigarette smoke. Not in a “I smoke a pack a day” kind of way, but as in “I’m smoking in your store right now.”
I didn’t see any cigarette in her hand, but then I saw the source: Smoke was pouring out of her coat’s hood. I waved wildly at my sister’s co-worker Jaimie to show her, as I didn’t want to call out the customer when I didn’t work there. Jaimie didn’t know what I was talking about, so I ran to the back of the store and told my sister’s boss, who walked calmly to the front, plucked the cigarette out of the woman’s hood, and said, “You have a burning cigarette in your hood.”
You think the woman would freak out, right? No. She didn’t know it was there, but acted like it was totally normal that she had a burning cigarette in her hood. Seriously?
Looking back, my reaction was a bit odd too. You’d think I’d pull out the cigarette myself. I don’t know what was going through my head at the time, but it was more along the lines of, “Oh, the woman must’ve stored it in there so she can resume smoking it as soon as she leaves the store.” Why did I even think something like that?