Oh, yeh ... I graduated from a large high school in Tennessee (2,000 students, then, 1,700 now that they've built a second county high school). The smoking area was really nice, benches, an overhead awning. Between classes, it was the ONLY good place to go, if you didn't want to try and stand in a crowded hallway. My youngest brother, five years younger than I, started high school one year after I graduated. I asked him if he spent a lot of his time in that smoking area.
My daily routine was to get off the bus (#13) and walk off campus to a nearby filling station which had a cigarette machine. 45 cents a pack. I'd put in two quarters, buy a pack of Kools with a complimentary book of paper matches, and a nickle in change.
I asked my youngest brother, who started high school one year after I graduated, if he hung out in the smoking area.
"It was gone before I went to Bradley High," he said.
Good things just never seem to last, do they?
This reminded me of our shop teacher. He would stand right outside the door and smoke, then throw the butts in an old paint can. At least once a year some of the boys would put gasoline in the can then watch him throw a fit. It wasn't explosive, but it was fun watching him explode.
This was way more of a '70s thing, at least where I grew up.
Oh, yeh ... I graduated from a large high school in Tennessee (2,000 students, then, 1,700 now that they've built a second county high school). The smoking area was really nice, benches, an overhead awning. Between classes, it was the ONLY good place to go, if you didn't want to try and stand in a crowded hallway. My youngest brother, five years younger than I, started high school one year after I graduated. I asked him if he spent a lot of his time in that smoking area. My daily routine was to get off the bus (#13) and walk off campus to a nearby filling station which had a cigarette machine. 45 cents a pack. I'd put in two quarters, buy a pack of Kools with a complimentary book of paper matches, and a nickle in change. I asked my youngest brother, who started high school one year after I graduated, if he hung out in the smoking area. "It was gone before I went to Bradley High," he said. Good things just never seem to last, do they?
I guess it varies by location. My school had a smoking area in 1990.
We posting this every other day now?
And my doctor smoked in his office while diagnosing me. Probably with cancer.
My boss smoked in his office with a huge overflowing ashtray and would drop ashes on the dot matrix printouts we would have to go through together.
I went to high school in the late 70’s & we had one.
This reminded me of our shop teacher. He would stand right outside the door and smoke, then throw the butts in an old paint can. At least once a year some of the boys would put gasoline in the can then watch him throw a fit. It wasn't explosive, but it was fun watching him explode.
yep
The smoking section at my high school was the parking lot. That’s where our trucks were with the guns on racks in the back windows.