My friend is visiting and she is a lovely, wise, uncomplicated guest who has no demands except sufficient cold Carlsbergs and a deep ashtray. The first request is fine, the second has me in a panic. My curtains will stink and my couch will require Febreze but maybe it's too late for my lungs. They greedily sucked in smoke for over 30 years.
My friend has spent a career reporting on thugs and terrorists and is not easily intimidated by threats. I wouldn't ban her anyway but have nevertheless herded her gently to a window where she puffs pensively. In my house, where no helper lives, no child and no dog, it's my rules. People can smoke there, but in Orchard Road and in public, well, that's another matter.