Classy Lee How to be classy and stay classy


Classy Littering

The other day I stopped at the local pharmacy near my house to pick up some vitamins and such. The particular vicinity of the pharmacy is in a rather nice part of the suburban Detroit area. I chose to live in this area because the crime was low, the homes were affordable, and there was a very noticeable lack of trashy "classy" people resident. I love writing about classy people, but I certainly do not want to live around them. I lived with Classy Lee himself for almost a year, so I already met my lifetime quota of class. Anyway, the area I live in is a nice middle class neighborhood with none of the riffraff of some of the downriver suburban communities. On this cold and blustery winter day in suburbia, I stumbled upon a classy looking fellow as I walked out of the store. This guy was wearing jean pants and a jean jacket, with a black baseball cap and a disheveled demeanor. He was standing still just outside of the entrance way blocking the door for approaching customers smoking a cigarette before entering the store. The classy looking female counterpart was already in the store chatting with the guy standing outside as the automatic door stayed open letting a cold rush of air in to the store.

As surprising as this may sound, some people actually go to the pharmacy to pick up prescriptions and other drugs because they may be sick. During this cold and flu season, a lot of customers go the store to pick up the necessary items to treat their symptoms. It seems considerate for the man in the Canadian tuxedo to leave the door open to let cigarette smoke and cold air rush in to the store for all of the sick customers to enjoy as they buy their Vitamin C and Zinc supplements. This guy is reading pretty high on my "class" meter.

As I walked out the exit, the meter went off the charts. He flicks his still lit cigarette on to the ground and walks in to the store. The cigarette is still giving off smoke as it rolls in front of my feet, less than a meter away from a cigarette ashtray outside of the store. The guy could have put it out in the receptacle designed for post-cigarette-smoking events such as the one described, but he had to class it up and litter my town with his trashy classy disregard for anyone but himself.

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