Steve Dunleavy Lights Up Our Life 34720

Occasionally, we (almost!) forget about Steve Dunleavy, both because he’s become rather crotchety and eccentric in his ripe old age and because we tend run in different circles [Translation: we don’t tend to spend our days getting shitfaced in a midtown Irish pub].

Thankfully, Dunleavy is generally happy to remind us of his existence by periodically indulging us (and, of course, himself) with crazy, self-righteous rants in which he’s clearly in the wrong. Take, for instance, yesterday’s missive, entitled “Smoke Gets In My Ire,” a one-man crusade pitting Dunleavy against a nameless hotel manager for no apparent reason.

Writes Dunleavy:

IT may not make the Guinness Book of Records, but I believe I paid the highest price in the world to smoke a single cigarette – $25, to be exact.

I recently got my bill from a very charming boutique hotel in downtown L.A. called the Hilton Checkers. On the 21st line of charges was the notation: “Smoking in the room: $200.”

Yes, I had been told it was a nonsmoking hotel, but like most desperadoes in the grip of nicotine, I’ve gotten away with it before in nonsmoking rooms. (Wrong, I know.) Over a period of four nights, I smoked two cigarettes a night, defying the prohibition. Total, eight cigarettes. Hence, my extra charge of $200 amounted to $25 a cigarette.

Here’s our take on it.

First, Dunleavy makes a conscious choice to stay in a nonsmoking hotel. Then, despite possessing a clear understanding of the “no smoking” rule, Dunleavy proceeds to light up in his room on four separate occasions. Finally, Dunleavy receives a fine for breaking said clearly stated rule, and for inexplicable reasons (i.e. he woke up in a drunken stupor and realized “Holy shit, I’m on deadline”) he decides to write about this grave injustice.

Geez man, we know it’s hard to motivate after an all-night bender, but it is still possible to throw on your tattered bathrobe and step outside for a smoke, you know. Besides, it’s not Dunleavy’s renegade rule-breaking that has our panties twisted all in a bunch—it’s the fact that he’s so fucking pissed off about getting penalized for it. You know, sort of like hearing your friend bitch about getting a speeding ticket when it turns out he was, in fact, doing 95 in a 40mph zone.

Meanwhile, after forking over the $200 surcharge, Dunleavy has already started working on his next piece: a first-person exclusive on the indignities of being arrested for public urination.