My friend John sums up Thailand’s version of law enforcement beautifully: “There are no laws here until there are laws.  Then they’re completely unbreakable.”  I remember last year when some City Hall genius decided that Bangkok taxis could only be hailed at designated spots along the streets.  Signs were put up, curbs were painted and newspaper stories were printed.  That lasted about 45 minutes, and today, the expensive signposts and other accoutrements are gathering dust; there are plenty of similar stories we won’t get into.  So, when it was declared that from February 11, 2008 all air-conditioned spaces in Bangkok would be smoke-free, I didn’t get too giddy.  Although, as someone whose lips have never even touched a cigarette (true story, mostly due to a guy who showed us his tracheotomy tube during an anti-smoking demonstration in grade 6, which scared the crap out of the entire class), I was happy to hear they were at least trying to do something.

I hate cigarette smoke, and spending a few hours next to someone as they blow carcinogens in your face kind of puts a damper on the evening.Us anti-smokers often catch brickbats from the other side, and vice versa, with both sides using the same argument: “If you don’t like it, go somewhere else.”  Fair enough, but would that be attitude that someone took if I sat at a bar with a hand-held methane emitter and started shooting farts out all night long?  Would people pipe down if I simply said, “Hey, it’s a free country.”  I doubt it.

But I digress… at any rate, it’s been a few months now, and I’m surprised – nay, happily shocked – to report that, for the most part, most of the places I go to are smoke-free.  I’m delighted when I come home and don’t have a sticky haze of nicotine clinging to my clothes, and my throat isn’t raw from trying to gurgle my words through my scratched vocal chords.  However, this being Thailand, it’s not as cut and dry as that.  It seems that no-smoking laws are more of a stern suggestion more than anything else, and one that can be avoided if you get the right permission permi$$ion.  The other night I met a few friends at a local watering hole called The Roadhouse, which was celebrating its birthday party on the third floor.  When I got about halfway up the stairs, I was hit by what seemed like a solid wall of haze – apparently, smoking was allowed for the celebrations.  Not sure how that came about, but there you have it.

roadhouse

I was really shocked at how much I noticed it.  I could only stay for about an hour before I had to leave, my throat crying out for a sweet, sweet glass of water.  Well, so it goes in Thailand – rules are only rules if they’re enforced and, like the famous saying goes, if a rule is broken in Bangkok, does anybody not affected care?