For the next three weeks, my sister smoked every day. It was a lot less than she used to smoke—perhaps four or five cigarettes a day. Once or twice a week, we would go out to a restaurant for dinner together. We were both "actively looking" for someone to date, but neither of us had any luck. I found that mystifying, since my sister was so obviously attractive. I asked her about it, over one of our late-night dinners.
"I don't want to pry, Gwynne, but why are you having trouble finding someone to date?" I asked. "You're on campus most of the time. I'd figure you would have loads of guys hitting on you all the time."
She sighed. "That's not the problem, Mitch. It's the cigarettes. A lot of guys I talk to are smokers. We talk while we're outside having a cigarette, but I know if I hook up
