I have a stair problem. Specifically, the flight of stairs leading up from Lincoln Way to the Friley Hall arches. Perhaps I’m wrong in this, but I think of those stairs as stairs: a series of steps or flights of steps for passing from one level to another. They are quite useful in this function.

Unfortunately, smokers seem to think of these stairs as a their own personal lounging area; maybe it has something to do with nicotine, I’m not really sure. Smoking being the social activity that it is, smokers tend to accumulate. When that happens, my stairs become their stairs.

Let me tell you something about my stairs: I really like using them. However, after a good 10 seconds or so of solid stair interaction, I leave the stairs open for others to enjoy. Ain’t I such a great guy? Not the smokers, though. They keep using the stairs. For tens upon tens of minutes. Now this wouldn’t be a problem except for the fact that the body of a smoker, much like the body of anyone I suppose, is an obstacle. An obstacle that has the potential to entirely ruin the functionality of a good set of stairs.

Recently, I had an encounter with the smokers to express my concerns. Let’s just say it was not a polite one, nor did it receive a polite response. Yes. I could have excused myself and picked a delicate path through the crowd, but I’m a crotchety old grad student who’s been suffering this annoyance for some time; things have progressed well beyond my politeness threshold. These kids were under the impression that the world would quite literally go out of its way to accommodate them.

I could try encouraging others to be equally confrontational, but we’d always be back to square one with every new class of incoming freshmen. I could try punting them one by one into the street. Really, I’m kind of a big guy and young smokers are notoriously thin. Problem there is that I might not always get favorable winds. So if violence isn’t the answer, what else is there?

Of course — segregation! We need to provide a separate but equal space for stationary people because I don’t want them diminishing the purity of my mobile race. Used to be that there was an entire campus-sized space for people to sit and smoke. We all had plenty of lebensraum and life was good. But now, because a few people were extremely loud about being exposed to a few parts per million of cigarette smoke (turns out the vehicle exhaust on campus is made of vitamin C and hugs), the poor smoker has been pushed out to the very borders of our territory.

So, allow me to advocate for them. They’re humans too. You just have to look past the longboards and girl jeans. Underneath is an irregularly beating heart, very similar to your own. All they want is a place to sit and enjoy a legal smoke. All I want is for them to have that place so long as it’s not directly in the path of a commonly used walkway. A few benches, that’s it.

So, does anybody out there have it in them to fix this issue? GSB? Graduating class gift? If the university doesn’t want these people on its land, it should be on the hook for providing them a place to go.

Is money the problem, Iowa State? Well, let’s think about this. Left unresolved, I will likely continue harassing people blocking these stairs. Tempers will escalate until the day when it’s finally me versus them in a no-holds-barred street brawl. Diminished lung capacity notwithstanding, I can probably only take a few of them until I am overrun. When I stumble into student health with cigarette burns, broken ribs and a dislocated jaw, who’s gonna cover the cost of fixing me up? Since I’m enrolled in a university health plan, that bill comes back to Iowa State in one way or another. See? Prevention is the best medicine.

So there you go, smokers. I’m trying to help us both. Until the campus community arranges for your own personal Zion, I would still very much appreciate it if you would keep the way clear for its intended purpose: walking up and down. Otherwise, well … you already know I have no trouble stepping on you.