Fiendish

Although I fully understand that few things are less welcome than the gloating of a recovered addict, I felt particularly smug last night at the Record Bar. I watched a constant stream of pathetic losers smokers trudge outside to indulge their filthy habit. Not only were they forced to shiver in the bitter cold, they risked missing another stupendous solo from the town's second-best saxophonist. The indoor smoking ban has improved the quality of my life immeasurably.