I work ... security ... part of the week at a large mall in a town that has very stringent smoking laws. Matter of fact, the law is no smoking within 50 feet of the main entrance to any business, and no smoking within 25 feet of public walkways. There are signs posted probably every 10 feet explaining these laws, and they're pretty big and reflective. So, when I'm walking - oh, sorry, patrolling - through those public walkways I see people and I let them know that the sign they're leaning on is not a recommendation, it's the law. My favorite excuses?
"It's too cold to go out there!"
"I'm not smoking, I was just lighting my cigarette."
"Why didn't you tell them" - points at a group I haven't gotten to yet - "not to smoke here?"
"You're just picking on me because I'm
"I'm not smoking. Yes I just put it out. Yes, it was after you told me. What's the deal?"
"It's too windy to light my cigarette at the smoking area."
"But it's raining! I don't want to get wet!"
Of course there are the ones that I've heard only once, and most times I was almost left speechless.
This old guy, had to have been in his sixties if he was a day, comes out the door, wheeling his oxygen tank, walking so slowly that he almost got clipped by the automatic door.
He wheels himself over to the planter dead center of the entrance, sets down his oxygen tank, takes off his nose thing and proceeds to light up his cigarette.
"Sir," I say as politely as I can, "the city ordinance states that you have to be at least 50 feet from the entrance to smoke. There's a bench down there where you can sit."
"Sonny Jim," he responds in the most caustic, smoker's voice I've heard in a long time, "I'm on oxygen. I can't walk all the way down there."
"..." I'm speechless while that one processes. Finally, my tired brain comes up with, "Well, you're well enough to smoke, you're well enough to walk down to the bench."
Or there was the old guy (yeah, again) who came out, leaned back on the sign explaining the smoking ordinance, and lit up.
I give him my polite no-smoking-within-50-feet-ordinance speech, and he looks at me with venom in his eyes.
"I was in Vietnam for 4 years, fought for my country, to make sure that freedom was kept in this country and you're going to tell me where I can and can't smoke? You have no respect for the people in uniform! You're a disgrace!"
I'm pretty sure this guy used to be a drill sergeant. I've never heard anyone but an auctioneer say so much in so little time.
"Sir," I said, "to the contrary, I completely respect your sacrifice, I even thank you for it. But, one of the freedoms you fought for was for laws to be passed by the people and this is one of the laws they passed, so if you respect your sacrifice, you would follow the rules."
He looked at me, I'd like to think a mite chagrined, and walked down to the benches.
Then there was the girl who was sitting in her work uniform - an employee of the mall itself - who was sitting in a stairwell, 4 feet from one of those omnipresent signs I was talking about.
"Excuse me, miss, there's no smoking allowed in stairwells or within 25 feet of them."
If looks could kill, I never would have finished that sentence.
I figured this was going to be one of those no-winners so I walked away as she ground her cigarette out on the step and started to follow me back into the building.
Now, it's the holiday season. Yeah, you know what that means, bells, red buckets, bells, perpetually cheery people, bells, loud and regular, "Merry Christmas!"'s, and did I mention the incessant tintinnabulation of the bells, bells, bells?
So I get back inside, standing next to the S.A. bell ringer, as little miss happy comes back inside the door. Ding, ding, "Merry Christmas!" he says. "How are you?"
"Hi," she gushes in false sweetness to the bell ringer. "I'll say hi to you, not that jack*ss who yelled at me like I'm a f*cking animal! F*ck you!" And then she storms back to work.
I definately don't get paid enough.
