Selected Excerpt from my European Diary Part 3: Smoking and Smelling

I'm not sure what the policies and laws are of France but in America (for feeling on Americans calling themselves Americans, make inquiries to author) we have a little thing called freedom of speech. This means that we have the freedom to express our opinion, unless we believe in communism of course. Well in Europe everyone smokes. I'm not sure how an entire nation can be unified in one specific activity like the French are with smoking but if it wasn't for the 1833 revelation called the Word of Wisdom, this people would be nearing Zion in their unity. So everyone takes breaks to go smoke and at every train stop long enough people lean out of the train to get a quick puff. And it reeks. One guy, for example, smelt so bad I got light headed and almost past out. Well I was searching for a way to voice my opinion that they stink and shouldn't be smoking because their stench affects everyone but I don't speech French so I knew I'd have to use something more powerful than words and then it came to me... A bubbling from inside of me urged me to give them a taste of their own medicine. Every moment I thought about it, that thing inside of me got more powerful, more potent. It started to get to much to resist. I eventually voiced my opinion. This voice, although audible, did not come from my vocal cords and oh how it resonated with my audience. I'm not sure what resonated with them more, the resonance of my message or that of my seat. What made my message more powerful than theirs was te ability to affect multiple senses; theirs stung the nostrils but mine could be hears as well as smelt. Whether my opinion was understood or whether my voice made a difference, I decided from then on to frequently voice my opinion. Whenever possible I let those around me know I'm against smoking at the train station. My baguette and croissant diet spotted with kebabs has only propagated my cause.