It’s 2018 and I’m rolling a cigarette in an east London smoking area. “Can you roll me one?” a friend asks, the neon light of the city bouncing off their expectant face. It’s a chaotic scene: someone to the left of me is crying about an ex-situationship. Someone to the right is giving a passionate speech about adults who wear ballet flats. Someone hot approaches my friend and asks the immortal conversation opener: “Do you have a light?” They’ll end up dating for a few months. This, I think, while blowing smoke into the sky, the nicotine and chilled air providing welcome relief from the loud, stuffy chaos of the club within, is bliss.
Ever since the indoor smoking ban in the UK came into effect in 2007, the smoking area has become the hub of nightlife activity. It’s where Brits go to flirt, gossip, or even just have a few existential moments to themselves. In a country that loves to clamp down on some of our more fun, hedonistic pursuits (see also: the crackdown in raves as a result of the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994 and no drinking on public transport in London since 2008), the smoking area has alway been that rarest of things: a place to mingle and let loose.
