Various news sources are reporting that the local cedar pollen count was 16,785 grains per cubic meter yesterday, and 13,340 today. For the record, these numbers are. (Records, that is.) This would explain why my skin feels like it is trying to crawl off of my body.
(“Why don’t you take some Benadryl, or a good anti-histamine?” Well, I don’t have any Benadryl, and I wouldn’t want to take it unless I was about to go to bed. I have an entire box of the good Zyrtec that I haven’t even opened yet, because, as scratchy as I am, getting the good stuff is such a hassle that I want to wait until I really, really need to use it before opening the box. Meanwhile, the Mexicans are purchasing pseudoephedrine in bulk and turning out high quality meth. Thanks, Obama!)
A Mr. Richard Feder of Fort Lee, New Jersey writes….
Lawrence made what I thought was a profound observation at dinner last night: every now and then, the NYT publishes a story that seems to be crafted in such a way as to make you hate not just the subjects, and not just the writers, but the entire population of New York City.
A half-dozen people were gathered around the tasting bar at the Henley Vaporium in SoHo on a recent Friday evening.
Let me interrupt here: where did the name “Henley Vaporium” come from?
The name, according to Ms. Eisenberg, has no significance other than that it sounded “cool” and “British.”
They should have named it “Henway”. What’s a “Henway”? About three pounds, give or take a few ounces. But I digress. Jumping back to where we were…
Behind the bar, two vapologists in white lab coats stood before a selection of dozens of tiny bottles, each containing liquid nicotine. The customers, all students or young professionals, leisurely inhaled on their so-called vape pens. Clouds of mist curled upward and vanished. A slightly sweet smell lingered in the air.
…the title was actually stitched on the breast of each lab coat…
Their parents must be so proud.
After an hour sampling the “juices,” Chris Gsell, 39, a director of product development at a nearby ad agency, settled on creamy banana. “It’s delicious,” he said between pulls from his vape pen.
By a strange coincidence, “creamy banana” was also the flavor of the bubblegum cigars I used to chew when I was five years old.
You know, I try not to be judgmental about what people put into their bodies. And it does seem like e-cigarettes are less harmful for you than regular ones; if this is what gets you through the night, God bless you. But the “vape” culture that seems to be springing up around what is a replacement for smoking is starting to try my last nerve.