What Could Be Worse Than Second Hand Smoke?

Her eyes met mine with an otherworldly glare, as if my eyebrows had just spontaneously combusted into a shower of ethereal sparks. Or at least basic sparks, I mean, a spark is a spark, as long as I am getting across the point that she looked quite flustered. Oh, right, I should explain, ever heard of second hand smoke? Sure...(“everybody has, the fact that I have to explain this to you exemplifies your ignorance”)..., what, no I did not hear anything. Anyways, when you ingest something you would rather not come in contact with, one can classify it as “second hand”. Well, when people imagine birth defects they think of an extra toe. Or a genetic disorder, a dwarf, or possibly even someone who licks windows on public transportation. But I have yet to find another with as unique a feature as mine, or at least one as invariably unsettling. Everyone has those thoughts they dare not say whilst having a conversation with an adversary whom they may not particularly like, or possibly the quick mental jab at the irksome enemy as they brush by in the hall. Yes, we all have these thoughts, and thank goodness they remain thoughts because, I mean, speaking them would surely lead to a fierce confrontation to say the least. Now, imagine how awful that would...(”It surprises me you can even read”)...okay, enough beating around the bush, think second hand smoke threatens the safety of people? Try having second hand thoughts. Mmhm, every thought I have,  I unwillingly mumble on the spot...(“as if your pathetic excuse for common sense could not have figured that out already”)...I did not mean that, I swear. Nothing personal really, the combination of being a cynical pessimist  and the inability to keep my thoughts to myself has led to some awkward situations before, much like right now. Allow me to use the example I started in the beginning, the time I met Oprah at a book signing. I approached her desk...(“why I would waste my breath telling you this story baffles me”).