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I remember as a young child, 5-8 probably, being on planes and everyone smoking. Sometimes it looked like the plane was on fire for all of the smoke. I live in a city where cigarette manufacturing was the backbone of the local economy and my father worked for the company. I remember going with my mother to pick him up after evening shift and it had rained and the warehouses where they stored the tobacco had leaked and the tobacco was wet. The smell is very unique, sweet, almost sickening to the stomach. I remember asking what that smell was and being told, Money. I could care less about smoking as long as those smoking keep it to themselves and are not in shared areas that other people are forced to be in.
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