Where there's smoke, there isn't Amy

Oh Rhode Island.
I hate going out in Providence. Whenever I return to my home state to hang with my RI peeps, we end up in a bar full of smoke, drunk girls from URI teetering on their black heels, the ends of their cigarettes swaying dangerously close to my eyes as they "dance." I hate that bitches blow smoke in my face, I hate the ash that ends up under my fingernails, and the worst thing is arriving home at 3 or 4am and being too tired to shower, so I wake up smelling of smoke. I loathe the steamy smoke odor that comes off of my body when I finally get in the shower.
I know it sucks for smokers. Massachusetts outlawed smoking a while ago, and I have never been happier. I can go out, walk through the initial crowd of smokers huddling together outside and enjoy destroying my liver and inhibitions without being hungover AND smelly the next day. I'm a non-smoker, so the ban is great for me.
People in Massachusetts raised the same hell that people in Rhode Island are when smoking was banned here. Business owners expected people to stay away from bars if they couldn't smoke. They imagine all the smokers huddled together in their houses, putting towels under the doors to enjoy the smoky aroma more, or fleeing to Connecticut to smoke in the casinos. But business owners forget that they have something most people's homes don't: socialization. You can't meet a random hot chick in your living room. You can't banter with waitress in your kitchen. You can't high-five fellow Red Sox fans in your rec room. There's an aspect to bars, clubs and restaurants that the most hardcore chain smokers can't resist, and they'll suck it up and stand by the door and smoke if they want.
So don't fear, Lil' Rhody. It'll all be fine. And I'll happily frequent your bars now, since the club girls will only have their scrawny frames to hurt me with now.