Every day, I carry my bike up the same set of stairs to ride across the same plaza toward my job. Apparently at least three other people use these stairs every morning, too:
The stairs are just about one cigarette’s walk from the parking garage.
Every day, I carry my bike up the same set of stairs to ride across the same plaza toward my job. Apparently at least three other people use these stairs every morning, too:
The stairs are just about one cigarette’s walk from the parking garage.
That is pretty much disgusting.
Y’know, this is why I try to restrict my smoking to areas out of the way of other folks. And really, people, it’s not too much effort to put out the damned cigarette and throw it in a trash can. I manage it every day just fine.
We have a smoking area at work. There are three ashcans in an eight-foot space. And people still throw their butts on the ground.
And they wonder why non-smokers think they’re lazy, disgusting pigs.
Smokers are pigs. By that I mean they think nothing of casting their billions upon billions of cigarette butts everywhere.