(Memoirs Of A Smoker)
We smokers have both a favourite place to smoke and a favourite moment to smoke. Each other time we lit up a cigarette, we just do it out of habit. “You all smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die.” In reality, we just enjoy that little roll of cancer in those two moments I mentioned before. My favourite place to smoke is New York. Wintry New York, actually. I had just begun to really smoke And by ‘really smoke’ I mean I started to buy my own packs, instead of asking my friends or whoever was at sight for one or two or more.
I went for the second time of my life to New York—the first time I was twelve and we (my family and I) went on summer vacation, so it was pretty much hell up there.
The second time, however, I went there on a school trip with my friends, on December. And instead of being in liquid state due to the heat and moist from the first time, now parts of my body were frozen. I mean, I’ve sensed cold hands, cold feet, cold nose and ears, but never until that trip had I felt cold thighs. The area that surrounded my balls ached but it was somehow numb as well. At least my balls were safe.
Sorry, and back to it.
I think New York is my favourite place to smoke for three main reasons:
- The cold weather makes you exhale more vapor when you blow the smoke out. Or at least it seems like it, because the smoke mixes up with the vapor. It’s stupid, but I like it and manage to do more smoke tricks in a cold weather. Plus, we all think smoking in a cold environment will somehow warm you.
- In the US there are like a bazillion types of cigarettes. For me ,Marlboro Blend 27. They were so good. They made the New York smoking thing a unique experience. Every time I see them in the US or if I get to randomly see them elsewhere, they remind me of New York.
- The simple act of being rebellious: The teacher in charge of us was actually cool and liberal, but at first she tried to act all hard and mean. So, we smoked behind her back. he was obviously aware of it but we believed we were ‘so badass’ We were young and naive. Also, our parents weren’t there. We were free.
Now, my favourite moment to smoke is a whole other thing. My favourite moment to smoke is at home, at night, on the kitchen’s table with my mom while my dad is sleeping unaware of the idea that I’ve been smoking for more than five years now. And I know many people would see this as wrong. Many mothers would never allow it. I mean, which mother in her sane mind would be ok with her son killing himself slowly? None.
But us smoking together is more than that. It is a tradition and a way to show that we are close. That we do not judge, and that there are more important things in life than getting mad because your son smokes.
Everybody smokes. If not, everybody has tried. If not, congratulations you big show-off…
My mother is like my grandfather, whom I never met.
She once told me her father used to invite her and her siblings to sit down and smoke a cigarette with him, while having a good conversation. It was not a rule, obviously, not everybody had to smoke. But I see it as a link. Some weird and dying link.
Where is your favourite place to smoke?
When is your favourite moment to smoke?