There's hope for us yet.

I emerged from my apartment, and found myself behind one of the endless numbers of haute couture women that are so numerous in the warmer months here that I swear they breed in the stagnant waters of the Po River. The social elite, which is saying a lot for a city with the the highest standard of living in the country. Although, I will note, with the insatiable obsession for all things outwardly beautiful (wear nothing but Chanel, live in a hovel, that sort of thing), who knows...maybe she was homeless.
The point is, I saw this dressed-to-the-nines lady finish her cigarette, drop it on the ground, step on it, and with great difficulty and obvious hampering to her perfect appearance, stoop down to grab it and throw it away. In a trash can. Now, in a place where cigarette butts fly through the air like confetti at a Louisiana David Duke parade, it's a nice thing to see.
It's like there's a cigarette butt smoldering in my heart right now.