Pot? Not!

Do I care if someone smokes pot?  No.  Do I care if they smoke it in my house?  You bet your Aunt Susie's ash can, I do.

And that goes for cigarettes, too.

Bottom line: apartments with shared ventilation systems need to be smoke-free.  If you share my air, it better be top quality.   If you want to poison yourself to death, get to it.  In fact, do us all a favour and hurry up about it!, but until then, smoke your nonsense outside.    

There seem to be quite the entrepreneurial adventures happening downstairs, in the apartment below mine. Not only do I get clocked in the face with a brick wall of stench, in the form of Mary Jane the second I walk in my house, but visitors may even be able to "choose your own adventure", if you're picking up what I'm laying down.   Cheech and Chong downstairs aren't very good at being discrete with their basement bargain booth... You know, with their guests' cars left running on the road as the drivers "run inside", as well as a constant stream of 5 minute visitors.  Oh, that, and hearing business details right from the horse's mouth.  

What bothers me is, no one in this town seems to care.   Everyone is aware of what is taking place below me, but all blind eyes get turned.  So, until Willie Nelson downstairs decides to pack up and go, I guess I'll have no choice but to wallow in my 2nd floor hotbox, and just hope the continuous flow of "riff raff" stay the hell out of my way.