Let it be known - my man friend and I used to smoke. A lot. Combined, about 3 packs a day. Then my grandmother died of heart disease, grandfather from lung cancer, and great-uncle from emphysema, so I decided that, while we were still young, Andy and I quitting was a good idea. We quit together around 1996 or so, and have been smoke-free ever since.
So, many of you might think this makes me one of those people who waves my hand in front of my face, gagging every time a ciggy is even remotely close to me. Not true. Seriously - it's TOTALLY a personal choice. I actually get angrier when peeps I know don't wear a helmet while bike riding. Do that, my friends, and you will feel my wrath.
In fact, if you want to suffer a long, slow, dismal, painful, drowning, horrible, hacking, lung-chunks-on-your-pillow death because of your habit, more power to you. Good luck with that whole trach-tube cleaning thing later in life.
That said - I still feel crappy in my lungs from Right Round the other night. So in a way I kinda hope they ban smoking in clubs. But I do have to admit that going out in SF and NY is really odd - cause you come home smelling pretty much exactly as you did when you left the house (humidity not withstanding...)
Anyway, just wanted to rant after the last chest-rattling cough-fest I experienced a few minutes ago.