the smoking vegans

I smoke. We've established this. The biggest downside to it? No, it's not cancer, bad teeth, or the money spent. It's the assholes that stand in line in front of me while I'm waiting to be them at the gas station. They're doing scratch tickets. It's not enough for them to buy their tickets, get out of line, and then play. Nope. They've got to stand their like the dumbfucks they are, scratching away at the counter. If they win, they put the money right back into a couple more tickets. If they lose, they put the money into however many tickets it takes to win back the money they initially spent. Usually, they hmm and haw over which brand of ticket to buy, as though there's really a difference. The fuckwit doesn't get the tickets are sorted by odds, not brands. There is no fucking difference! Strangely enough, the clerks never seem to mind. Then again, I guess when someone spends that much quality time around you, you probably develop a real relationship with them. Other times, the clerk actually seems to have a genuine emotional stake in whether or not the asshole wins.

So I'm left holding my dick in the wind, just wanting to buy my smokes and get to work on time, along with the other 30 people in the quickly-developing line. Here's what I'd like to say should I ever have the chance:

You know what, asshole? Those pairs of cherries, bells, bananas, and pots of gold are never going to line up to win you a million bucks. It's not happening. You're pissing your money away on a fruitless addiction. At least cigarettes taste good. The most you get is a chance to win back the two dollars you spent in the first place. Get the fuck out of line, do your scratch tickets somewhere else. You make me want to die. Or kill. And not just anyone. Hey, you got kids?

You are everything that is wrong with this world.