Once again, ash is pleased to echo another writer’s sentiments, this time on a local issue: the controversy over a recently passed smoking ban in public buildings. Though she is normally far more intrigued by national affairs, in this instance she happened to have had a recent experience with the matter in question:
Consider another problem brought on by ban
I have been listening to the debate about the smoking ban for months. And while this smoking ban is being argued, I am losing sleep. Why? Because of the extremely high level of noise that now emanates from the local downtown bars.
My home is a nice, professional apartment complex downtown. Unfortunately, it is located directly across the street from the Firehouse bar. Now that patrons are forced outside to smoke, the doors to the Firehouse are either propped open or they are continuously being opened by the smokers. The dance floor/DJ is located right by the door. My dilemma? Every time the door to the Firehouse opens to accommodate a smoker, I am forced to hear every single word from the songs or the DJ. Whether I’m watching TV or trying to sleep, I am accosted by the repetitive sounds from Firehouse, at annoyingly high volume.
When patrons of the bar were previously allowed to smoke inside, this noise complaint was not an issue. People who have voted for the smoking ban did not consider the effect that would be placed upon the local residents of downtown. I call downtown my home, and now I’m being bothered simply because of the smoking ban.
There needs to be a compromise. Either Firehouse needs to move the DJ booth away from the doors or the patrons should be allowed to smoke inside. Just as people were bothered by the smoke inside the bar, I am now bothered by the noise outside the bar. I don’t win.
I sympathize with correspondent [name withheld], who has been victimized by one of the smoking ban’s unintended consequences: noise pollution.
My first encounter with what the ordinance has wrought occurred on New Year’s Eve, which I spent at a bar I hadn’t been to since before it took effect. Having been a regular customer, I learned to wear clothing suitable for temperatures approximately 20 degrees above an outdoor thermometer’s reading: that’s how warm it used to be.
Now, no longer. Between a visibly diminished crowd and both entrance doors perpetually open to smoking’s huddled masses, I froze enough to keep my fake fur constantly wrapped over my cocktail dress (how foolish of me to wear one, regardless of the occasion). If I thought dancing in high heels would be challenging, try dancing in high heels and a cumbersome coat.
The establishment’s owner, whom I know casually from having patronized her business for years, had a two-word appraisal of the smoking ban: “It sucks.” I can’t improve upon that.