Survival Arts

...and while I'm ranting about tobacco-related issues

I just finished writing about Washington State's nasty little taxman, because I'm still a bit incensed about an incident that happened about an hour ago. I was leaving my local Target with some school supplies when, outside the exit, I heard a man exclaim "you should go back to your own country to smoke those cigarettes!" as he was entering the store. I turned, and in one glance took in the object of his offense, a mixed-sex group of four moderately well-dressed young Asian people, whose style looked suspiciously familiar, happily chatting while indeed smoking cigarettes outside the door.

The dogwhistle who insulted these people apparently didn't have the cojones to stand still and talk to these people directly, instead choosing to continue into the store to harangue the first pasty-faced store clerk he could snag, yelling at her that "there's a 100-foot rule in California!" and such. I walked in and loudly told the guy that what he had done was incredibly uncivil, and he should immediately apologize to the smokers who were bothering no one. He blurted the "100 foot rule" nonsense off to me, at which point I told him that I thought that was a typically cowardly modern Californian thing to say. He raised his voice, simply choosing to yell "smoker!" at me, to which I replied, "No, actually, I'm a non-smoker... you're a fascist non-smoker!"

The guy - a Jerry Garcia lookalike without the Jerry Garcia mellow edge - actually replied, "I'll beat your ass!" I only made him more angry - but interestingly, caused him to back away - when I laughed with a surprised smile and said, "Yeah, sure you will... are you actually threatening me?" I then turned and walked in the direction of the Asians, who apparently had been utterly oblivious to our exchange, enjoying their smokes and continuing to mind their own business. I turned to one of the women in the group and alerted her that they might be accosted soon by submissive store clerks or the hairy madman, and immediately determined they were Japanese.

It was at that point that I switched to their language (yes, I do speak it) and informed them without fear of evesdropping, "You see that large, angry, hairy man waving his arms at that small storewoman through those doors there? Well, he's an intolerant local guy, and crazy to boot, so watch out for him: he seems to have a problem with your smoking." They all laughed heartily and thanked me for the warning, and I walked off to my car with a smile on my face.