My hometown has this perfect sightings spot with a strip mall and attached gas station and a usually vacant parking lot that allows me to sit there eating my fast food from the nearby Taco Bell and visually monitor smoker traffic coming in and out of the gas station, as well as the busy street in front of it. One of my best memories from this spot came in the early winter months of 2001, when the weather had turned cold in the Upper Midwest and it theoretically becomes easier to tell the smokers from the nonsmokers by who still has their windows cracked while driving. One 18-ish brunette sure punctured a hole in that theory in the most satisfying way imaginable.
Parked right next to the entrance-exit of the gas station/strip mall, a black luxury car stopped parallel to me waiting to turn into busy traffic. My eyes literally bulged (along with other parts of my anatomy) as I turned to see the most prim and proper high school senior-ish hottie behind the wheel of this expensive car with a freshly lit all-white in her hand. And the hottest part of this sighting was that the window wasn’t even open a crack. My first thought was that she had just lit the cigarette and would eventually crack the window, but she sat there waiting to turn for close to a minute, and after watching a couple of well-performed drags and exhales, she moved the cigarette to her right hand and tapped the ash downward, almost certainly into the ashtray in her car.
Here was this poised looking rich girl driving a luxury car that daddy probably bought for her….who was marinating in her own cesspool of toxic secondhand smoke. An escape hatch for the noxious fumes spewing around in such a compressed setting? Not for this nicotine beauty queen. She liked the lingering aroma of ever-present secondhand smoke just fine, thank you very much. I somehow managed to get by watching this girl for close to 90 undetected seconds before she was finally able to make her turn, with conditions in that car getting cloudier with each passing second.