Welcome to City of Peeves, the new feature where I will detail something about New York City that peeves the hell out of me. Why start with #47? Because while I haven’t counted, I know that I’ve detailed at least 46 other pet peeves with people in this city on this blog. Also, if I was an NFL running back, I would want #47 to be my uniform number. I would also want to run a 4.47-second 40, and earn $1.47 million a year. I can dream, can’t I?
The Last-Minute Smoker
Habitat: Street-level Subway Stairwells
Description: As addressed in my most-commented post of all time (125 comments strong!), I don’t like smokers. Some smokers insist that they take great care to avoid blowing smoke in non-smokers faces. This is not true with The Last-Minute Smoker. He doesn’t throw his cigarette butt into the street before going down into the subway. Instead, he insists on taking one last puff while descending the stairs and tossing the butt to the foot of the stairwell. Showing no consideration for the line of people behind him, he then blows the smoke out at the bottom of the stairs.
As any natural science class taught you, smoke rises. The Last-Minute Smoker’s acrid, stinging secondhand smoke rises directly into the faces of the people on the stairs behind him. He shows no remorse for his actions, and continues into the subway station, where he will probably be the same asshole who walks down to the platform at a snail’s pace, despite the fact that there is a train is in the station.
Rating on the Peevery Scale: