A Smoking Tale Yes, I'm a smoker. A lot of my friends look down their noses towards me and my habit these days. Here's my side of the story. This was originally written by me at The Fray, a neato online e-zine for writers. Smoking - How I Started I started the way most people here did... sneaking the smokes from the old man. I did it when I was around 11 or 12 years old. Both my parents smoked, my Mom duMauriers and my dad smoked Export Plains (well, they're canuckian brands, ok?). I stole a pack from the carton in the fridge, a package of 25 Exports. For those not in the know, Export Plains are filter-less cigarettes. A harsh introduction to the world of smoking. I didn't last long on the Exports. My old friend Paul and I snuck into the field behind my house, and lit it up... we hacked and kaffed. We thought we were the coolest guys on the planet. Our faces turned blue, but we were cool. I felt like gagging, but hey, we were cool. After spreading out those Exports for a couple of weeks, I bought my first pack, the smoke of teens in Canada, Player's Lights. I was incredibly easy to buy smokes when you're 12 back then. I was well known at our local confectionery, and my parents and relatives often used to send me there for their cancer-sticks. I was the first kid in my grade to smoke. Everyone thought I was the hippest guy around. Everyone wanted to be my friend. Everyone wanted to be with the rebel. I started at least 6 other 12 year olds smoking. I don't relish that memory too much. Because it was a catholic school, complete with Nuns, we had to do our evil habit out back, near an old chip wagon that sold fries by the road. The funny thing about this episode is this - I don't consider myself as a smoker until I was 18. I did smoke between the ages of 12 and 16, but not at a regular pace, and I quit for weeks at a time with little effort. One girl I started dating when I was 16 hated smoking, so I quit, only to start the night we broke up, two years later. Then, I became a smoker. What Smoking is (and was) Like Cigarettes were my best friend. Cigarettes were my communicator. Cigarettes opened me up to a world I thought I wanted to be in. Now I'm just a slave. Since I haven't quit yet, I can't write the third part of this tale. I can talk about how cigarettes made me feel, then and now. Then, cigarettes made me feel part of the crowd I hung with, made me feel popular, made me feel accepted. Now, cigarettes make me feel shunned, make me feel alienated, and make me feel shameful for the lack of will power. Then, cigarettes introduced me to several women who became involved in my life. Then, cigarettes made me think I was cool. Then, cigarettes gave me a sense of community, when I was doing the things local teens do, going out, throwing parties, having bonfires on the beach, and the like. Now, cigarettes made me hide my addiction to my current love, Jeanette, when I first was introduced to her. Now, I could tell her disappointment with my habit. Now, I can still see her worry over my affliction. Now, I don't share a sense of community, instead, I step outside when the drug calls me, leaving all my friends inside having fun. Then, smoking was fun and rebellious. Now, smoking is not much fun, and is ruining my body. Maybe it's time to quit. Click here to get to the other stories.

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