36 Weeks Pregnantstools

The smoking ban explained to the children (a sentimental approach)



was a cafeteria
white, clear, spacious cafeteria of a hotel, the Hotel Don Sancho. People spoke at a moderate level and through the large windows in a rush light came from the Paseo de las Delicias, filtered through the leaves of the acacias, especially when spring came. I lived across the street and I enjoyed going to read newspapers and have breakfast with Esther, with William, Isaac, with Ale, Virginia. We ate big bowls of coffee and chatted and smoked while hojeábamos newspapers. Some evenings also going alone, to smoke and read more newspapers, had many newspapers. It was a time when I have trouble finding a bad memory.

One day he entered into force the previous law of snuff. Don Sancho the cafeteria became a smoke-free space. We grieved. Of course, we stopped going. Sometimes, when passing by, looked in and missed the luminous tranquility, the variety of media, pastries, especially our morning meetings. We started to go La Pepa or any other site more unpleasant, which were also reasonably happy with our coffee and cigar. We never did go to smoke non-smoking, we did not want to restrict freedom of non-smokers. Each had its place: including its beautiful white bar, we our tavern, which they do not come. Well, lived different options anything was possible in strict freedom.

For some reason that I do not yet understand the new law of snuff, which entered into force on 2, is to eliminate freedom. The sooner had room for everyone, there is now only for some. Some non-smokers are happy, "and no longer will I get clothes smelling snuff" in his dictatorial dictatorial way to celebrate their victory. "So I do not get angry with smoke," so I can not redden the eyes ", all personal victories before a loss to society. Curious selfishness, especially when no one is forcing smokers to go to sites like I'm not going to bars or eight o'clock mass pachanga. And I do not to mount a dive rock in my parish because I do not like the Mass: each in its place, I was in my bar, the faithful pastor. Everybody's happy. Respect. Now we marginalize the street while they occupy the space belonged to everyone. We hate through the window with its fragrant clothes, yes, rather boring in their new domains, like a spoiled child tired of his gift of kings.