I'm so glad I don't smoke anymore. The Madrid 522 wasn't even that smokey, and it still drives me nuts that I can smell it now on my clothes.

It's strange -- aesthetically, I like smoking. I find smoking in movies seems to be very sensual. Visually, I find it erotic. It excites me. But the moment I encounter it in real life, when the smell is a part of it as well, I am turned off. I can't see it the same way when I must smell it as well.