As a post doc, I spent half my time chain smoking cigs outside the building, deep thunking, while waiting on a long centrifuge run or whatever to finish.
Every day at some point the Chief of Surgery (an old guy with white Einstein-like hairdo) would come out from the building next door, heading toward our building, with a pile of nervous surgery residents following ten feet behind him like ducklings following their momma.
He'd see me, stop and say something to the residents who would then just stand there in the hot sun waiting patiently and silently, as he came over to babble with me about "the latest news" on my project.
And then ever time - every single time - he would bring up my nicotine addiction.
He said my nic-a-dic reminded him of his mentor - THE Chief of Surgery at Duke U. "who wrote the Fkn book on surgery back in the day," and who was a Major Coke Fiend his entire career.
He said in those days, being a Major Coke Fiend was not at all uncommon among the Best and Brightest.