The stale laundry smell of expensive cigarettes is still cigarettes.
Samantha Mills is pissed and drunk and pissed drunk. She's standing on the corner of State Street and Liberty getting soaked by a sudden down pour in early August. Her marijuana cigarette is wet to the point of unsmokability, but she's letting it hang off her lip anyway. For a few seconds she went cross eyed, watching raindrops bead and roll down the saturated paper.
"Fuck it," she said and inhaled and started walking down to main street.