Second-hand Revelation

"Ugh, do you smell that? It smells like a cigarette." She said thrusting her nose into the air.

As I heard her say this I looked all around me. Sure enough there he was, puffing away, thoroughly enjoying his early-morning cigarette. Neither the smoke nor the fact that he was smoking bothered me. I couldn't help but notice the looks other people were giving him, however. Observers seemed to gaze right through him, pretending with all their might that he wasn't there, almost as if he was not worth seeing. Others shot him a look of blatant disgust.

Everyone seemed to be judging him. Even the guy whose love for alcohol had caused a rift in his relationship with his liver--his one and only. Even the girl who carelessly slept through yesterday's class. A class she paid $927 to attend. Even the gentleman who forced his one-night-stand of a girlfriend to have an abortion. Even the vegan. And especially the daughter who lost her mother to just one cigarette too many. Each set of eyes seemed to pass judgment upon this poor soul, despite the arguably controversial they themselves had made. The happy-go-lucky thought of a world where one can follow their own path without being pelted by stones popped into my head. Then came the thought of free will. I laughed to myself. Oh, the irony!

So, feeling bad for the poor guy, I decided to ask him for a cigarette. Thinking that maybe, just maybe, it would make him feel better about his own decisions.

"Hey man, could I bum a cigarette?"
"For you? No," he said laughing. As he walked away, he looked back at me with a look of pity.