Serving Boone, Blowing Rock, Banner Elk, and other towns of the North Carolina High Country
Founded 05-05-05
March 22, 2007 issue
Story by Joshua Simcox
Annie Bryant, an ASU graduate student and Saturday morning regular at downtown King Street’s Boone Drug, munches on an English muffin at the fountain counter and enjoys something that was, until recently, absent from this beloved town institution: a smoke-free atmosphere.
“I love it,” Bryant, a non-smoker, says of the controversial decision to eliminate smoking at Boone Drug, one of the few local establishments that—until recently—permitted patrons to enjoy a cigarette with their cup of coffee and morning paper. “In the past, I tolerated the smoke because I liked the atmosphere here. But things are much better now,” Bryant says.
The smoking ban took effect March 1, and has had a major impact on Boone Drug’s customers and staff, regardless of which side of the “smoking/non-smoking” fence they’re on.
“We’ve had regulars coming in for years that are used to having a cigarette with their coffee and breakfast,” says Marylin Pardy, Boone Drug’s fountain manager. “And now some of them may not come back. We’ve certainly had plenty of complaints about the new policy, just as we had complaints about the smoke from non-smokers.”
According to Pardy, comments and concerns addressed to the establishment’s owners by health-conscious patrons are responsible for the change in policy.
“The decision was made based on health issues and complaints from customers,” she says. “People would sometimes make comments about why smoking would be allowed in a place that’s actually supposed to promote health.”
As Bryant continues her breakfast and Pardy attends to matters behind the counter, an elderly patron—and, word has it, one of Boone Drug’s most vocal supporters of the smoking ban—wanders over to share his thoughts on the new smoke-free policy.
“I feel wonderful about it. Boy, do I ever!” he gushes, an easy smile brightening his slightly weathered face. He takes a seat and introduces himself as Dr. Laman Whiddon, retired dentist and loyal six-day-a-week regular at Boone Drug. “If they were open on Sunday, you can bet I’d be here then, too!” he says.
“Smoking causes more health problems than just about anything else,” Whiddon continues. “I used to be a dentist, and people knew that when they came into my office, I wouldn’t work on them if they smoked. In fact, I think the government ought to say ‘No more tobacco.’ The only thing keeping it going is…” and he rubs his thumb against his index and middle fingers in the pantomime that symbolizes money.
Pardy, enjoying some small talk as she refills coffee cups, points to the opposite end of the counter where a pair of gentlemen in rumpled jackets and baseball caps sit with newspapers spread before them. The section of Boone Drug these two occupy was a common destination for smoking patrons to congregate, and this pair of regulars wish to make their thoughts on the smoking ban known, though it’s obvious before either says a word that their viewpoint will differ considerably from Annie Bryant’s or Dr. Laman Whiddon’s.
“Do you think it’s hypocritical for an establishment that sells drugs to forbid their customers from using them?” one asks loudly, without looking up from his paper.
The other customer chuckles at his friend’s outburst and sets his own paper and half-eaten plate of breakfast aside. “Before the ban, you basically had three major groups that came here,” he says. “You had the people that sat up front because they wanted to keep as far from the smokers as possible; the people that sat in the middle because they didn’t care one way or the other; and then there are people like us that sat at this end because they liked to enjoy some friendship and a good cigarette.” He sighs. “I miss it.”
“The friendship you’ll find at this end of the counter is the best anywhere,” he continues. “Those guys over there,”—he points to the opposite end and grins—“they try to solve the worries of the world, and we just laugh at them.”
As humorous and good-natured as that last comment was, it also reflects how surprisingly divided Boone Drug patrons are, especially in an establishment that has built its reputation in part based on a commitment to preserving the friendly, warmly hospitable vibe common to drug stores in the era before homogenized chain pharmacies such as CVS, Eckerds and Walgreens rose to prominence.
And while many customers sit on opposing sides of the smoking ban and argue their points passionately, much of Boone Drug’s clientele are, according to Pardy, taking a “business as usual” approach to the new policy.
“It hasn’t been an easy transition,” she says. “Some have been angry, but most have accepted it with grace. We’ve actually been pretty lucky.”
Still, the decision is indicative of a society that is becoming increasingly less friendly to smokers, and it surprises many that even a time-honored institution like Boone Drug isn’t immune to this growing trend.
Perhaps Brenda, a non-smoking customer who sits “squarely in the middle” of the debate, yet often sits with the smokers at the far end of the counter, has the most succinct take on the new policy.
“There used to be a cloud hanging over this counter,” she says softly. “But now it’s gone.”
And whether she spoke those words with sadness or relief, it’s difficult to tell.