My cameras and lenses draw people like a magnet when I am out shooting wildlife in reserves and such. I'm working and they want to chit-chat! A good cigar or a pipe spewing latakia smoke keeps them and mosquitos at a distance. My wife says that I am antisocial. I prefer to think of myself as asocial.
A pipe full of an aromatic usually draws comments such as: "Oh! That reminds me of . . . (insert; grandfather, father, uncle)." The comments are usually from women a third my age. As nothing positive can come from continuing the conversation I tip my hat, mutter incoherently, blush and scuff my toe in the dirt as I turn back to my camera. After they walk away . . . I usually break into quiet sobs. Another reason to stick with a tasty yet reeking blend when out and about.
Getting old is a drag. The alternative is, however, much worse.