Ahab and the Tobacco Harpoon

image stolen from poptastes.com

Was smoking cigarette in a semi-public place. As expected the demon weed brought a sniffing hound in the form of an obese girl in early twenties who would look attractive to a paraplegic binge porn watcher under effect of sorcery level hallucinogen. This girl tried to purge me of my sins of smoking extortionately taxed tobacco, she waved her finger, told me about the perils of smoking, let me bathe in her aura of moral and civic superiority, and finally let the horror sink in that I, a lowly pleb, had fouled the air breathed by her.


Well fuck you you land whale (Terranus Aquatici Monstrosus), go back to your organic marine abode and leave the crust to homo sapiens. I will be smoking a cigarette when your groom runs away from the altar after seeing your disgusting bursting visage under the wedding gown and the  horrible realization sinks in that his princess Ariel is not a mermaid but a Sperm whale. Who told you to go around sniffing for tobacco smokers and anyway I was here first. It is one of those little oddities in life that is slightly painful but becomes chronic after sustained exposure, while earlier it mildly displeased you now the mere hint of it fills your heart with homicidal rage. Like the oddity of supposedly tobacco intolerant people acting like tobacco hunters. The little oddity when you stand in an alleyway after a mediocre poker session puffing cigarette and suddenly an obese woman materializes out of nowhere. One minute you are puffing Marlboro, the next you are locked in a duel to death with a Sperm Whale.

What got my goat was not the passive-aggressive shenanigans of the war-pig but the stream of harassment I have endured over the years for smoking, it was the last shooing that broke Buddha's silence. Cigarette smokers are the last group of legally sanctioned persecuted minority in our so called modern society. Any passerby can leer, screech, spit and rouse the rabble against a smoker all with tacit approval of the culture. Never mind that the Government damn near rapes every smoker in the pocket with the most regressive taxes on record. It also should not matter that most smokers are either poor or just scraping by, the rich moved on to drinking overpriced alcohol and their wannabe starry-eyed middle-class lackeys followed them with the zeal of a convert. The days of elites smoking a tobacco pipe are far gone and nothing marks your status as a low class trash than smoking cigarettes.

The fat cetacean derided me with surprising craft, her skills honed by the countless tobacco boats sinked by her in the past, but this time she faced an aimless man who would not back down. The man clutched on to his little Tobacco harpoon and continued making gashes at the beast with it till it finally retreated into the darkness chanting tantrums in an ungodly tongue foreboding the darkness that she wished upon the man who defied her. Maybe she might become a stalker and sneak up on me or maybe I am just a pussy who is getting paranoid about a person who is scared of second hand smoke. Or maybe in a curious twist, I might swear vengeance and make it my aim to hunt her. It will be code-named operation Moby Dick.



Backstory (As found in the lost papers of Herman Melville): Ahab was just fishing a rare breed at the Jetty on an idyllic morning when suddenly a White Sperm Whale just appeared out of nowhere and tried to shame him and take away the fishes. That did it for Ahab and the aimless man vowed to make a giant trampoline out of the Whale from which he would jump to outer space. And thus began the first space saga known to man.