I Don't Want to Stop Smoking, part deux

This morning as I went to get my coffee, I saw one of the Chrysler Building rent-a-cops holding a little piece of paper in front of him that looked like some sort of city ordinance or something. The people who usually congregate under the canopy in the front of the building are now, as of 8 am this morning, forced to come out from under their shelter and smoke in the rain, even though their spot was technically outside and not really subject to ordinances and the like. When I came out of the coffee shop, I saw about 5 or 6 people standing in a group right in front of the rent-a-cop staring him dead in the eye, each with a cigarette in their mouths. They looked to be staging some sort of protest, which I thought was funny and that's why I mention it. I know it wasn't the rent-a-cop's fault. It is a very unlucky job to have to be one of the people to enforce the stupid laws the mayor makes around here, as if he doesn't have bigger fish to fry, like maybe the growing rate of poverty in the city (by the way, NYC was the only city in America to have the rate INCREASE over the past year rather than decrease). Needless to say, you'll never catch me in that profession, whose reps, by the way, are known to recruit in subway stations. Really, they approached my out-of-shape self to be a cop while waiting for the N train. Can you imagine? Me, a cop? They're like those Marine recruiters in Flint, Michigan (see "Fahrenheit 9/11"). So pathetic it's funny.

And a special thanks to the delegation of the Russian Federation to the United Nations. It is because of them and the "secret meeting" they held with Mr. Annan that the conference room level of the UN building is the last place in the city where one can smoke without consequence. Now I really don't understand why the Cold War happened for so long. Russians are pretty damn cool people. They can look quite menacing, so I understand some of the confusion Old Man Reagan and his lot suffered in the eighties, but really they're very nice. Secretive and peculiarly non-chalant is all. My new boss is Russian, and he's very laid-back, as if he's doing bong-hits in his office or something, and he listens to great music. Hey, maybe we could get Bossman Kofi to establish some kitschy bar in the basement of the UN building. He'd have a hell of an opening night and would make great business. he could really leave a lasting impression on his way out if he did that.