I'm gonna start smoking a pipe.

Today, on our walk home from the train, P.I.C. and I got into a discussion about smoking. Rather, we started discussing the prevalence of the tobacco shops on Division Street. Seriously? There have been probably three new stores in our area that have opened since we moved over into this neighborhood over a year ago. Doesn't that seem like a lot?

I actually had seen a guy earlier today smoking a pipe outside of my work building. A real, Sherlock Holmes-looking, pipe. I expected him to call the other suited dude, "My dear Watson." Sadly enough, I didn't hear that. What a disappointment. Of course, he wasn't dressed like Sherlock Holmes. But I digress...(as I usually do.)

I actually like the smell of pipe tobacco. I hate cigar smoke, and the only bit of cigarette smoke I like is when one is first lit (something about the paper being singed.) But pipe smoke is different. Cleaner. Almost like an incense of woodiness and herbs. It's lovely. Homey. I am certain a part of me likes it because one of my grandpas used to smoke a pipe.

I got to thinking...what if I started smoking a pipe? Wouldn't that be super interesting? You'd see me, standing outside with all the little people smoking their plebeian cigarettes. I'd be looking significantly cooler, striking my match on its book, lighting my mahogany pipe. I would look smart. Sophisticated. European, even.

Or else I would just look ridiculous.

It would be an interesting social experiment, wouldn't it? Chick smoking a pipe, yea or nay?