Look, that eternal hand-rolled cigarette is dangling from his lower lip again. It just smells awful.
Whenever I see him, I think of the time when I was a young man and thought I could impress the girls coming out of the sewing workshop in Calle de la Escula by lighting a cigarette with an American lighter, just like a movie star.
What a fool I was back then, Platero.
Frankly, I don't miss smoking, much like some other things aging makes superfluous.