The other day a bloke in the Tesco cafe asked me quite curtly if I would mind taking my obnoxious, cancer-causing sandwich to a table further away from him, as he did not wish to be exposed to my disgusting habit whilst trying to enjoy his morning cigarette! Was he afraid that that I was going to blow bacon fumes into his face as I went past, or burn his sleeve with a stray blob of hot fat?

I’m joking. Smoking, of course, is not allowed in the cafe, or indeed anywhere inside the shop. My mind has a habit of wandering off if left unsupervised. I only took my eye off it for a few minutes, while I was savouring a late, much needed breakfast on my way into uni, and caught myself pondering whether, in past times, when the link between cigarettes and cancer was suspected but not yet proven, people scoffed at the ‘scaremongering’? Last week I scoffed at a report, widely headlined, which suggested that the consumption of processed meat products could increase your likelihood of developing cancer.

I wonder — in years to come will my children’s children be saying: ‘I can’t understand why anyone starts eating bacon in the first place, when the risks are so well known’?

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