PLEASE Stop Smoking on the Rhett Bench, He Has Developed Asthma
By: Piper Hope
We all know that BU Beach is an ideal location for a drunk ciggie. While you stumble down the sidewalk and fumble with your lighter the Rhett bench may appear as an oasis, both a place to sit and a friend to smoke with! But NO, STOP. Have you ever stopped to think about how Rhett feels?
It’s hard to get Rhett to speak, he gets secondhand high every time someone lights up a joint next to him, so he’s gone pretty much permanently non-verbal. However, I spent three days shooing away stoners to get him out of his funk. I got to have a heart-to-heart convo with Rhett, and I’m here now to share his heartbreaking tale of woe.
“I don’t know who started the rumor that I’m a big smoker but they couldn’t be more wrong. I HATE smoking!” I told Rhett that maybe people think that because he’s always hitting a very cool and nonchalant pose, he looks like the type of cool cat (cool dog?) you would see chiefing a fattie on the street. I recommended that he try to look more like a big freaking nerd, like wearing some glasses or holding a math textbook whilst grinning.
He responded, “I’m already a mega nerd! I’m the mascot of the academically rigorous highly selective Boston University (ROLL TERRIERS! BARK BARK!). But people still think I want to partake in smoking! My lungs are turning black and I now have severe asthma!”
I pat Rhett on the back. His pain is so real. Rage creeps into his voice: “These rapscallions that sit next to me, ruining my night, are of a certain breed. I have a few choice words for them, but I’ll hold my tongue. Let’s just say I’d like to call them the British word for cigarette…”
I chose to ignore Rhett’s homophobia because I thought it was justified. He says that often students will take a seat claiming they’re there for “just one cunty cig” and then smoke half the pack.
As our conversation wrapped up I caught a glimpse of metal under Rhett’s paw. What’s this? I grab it before he can smack my hand away, it is in fact a Juul! Rhett hid his face in shame as I gave him a disapproving look. During the awkward silence that followed, a drunken twink stumbled up to the bench. “Could you like, move? I need to have a cig right now."
I gave Rhett an icy look and moved so the twink could sit down. I shook my head slowly and backed away. As the young man clicked his light I could see a single tear roll down Rhett’s cheek, but I knew it was not for the cigarette. I had taken Rhett’s prized possession, the Terrier Juul is now mine!