A History of Smoking (Part II)

University. The time to expand one's horizens. The time to try on different 'selves' to see what fits. Basically, in many respects, a snooze button for life 'out there' in the so called 'real world.' I embraced my University career. I also picked up the smoking habit. Unlike before, this time I even inhaled. It took some convincing on my part. My roommate in residence started smoking. I hated it. I thought I hated her. I really didn't though. For more info on that situation look to badminton-going-home-old-friends-part II .

Anyway, there I was stuck in a room with a smoker. Ick. Funny thing happened though. I swear that I became addicted to the second hand smoke. I would start getting headaches when she wasn't around. Still, I stuck with my healthier addictions -- alcohol and caffeine -- and time went by. Flash forward to a frat party. Don't ask why we were there...I still can't figure that one out. Anyway, some jerk cornered my friend. Some people really shouldn't be allowed to breathe. Anyway, we left and, in some perverse need to share in the moment, I asked for a cigarette. I really didn't know much about brands and such so, when handed a camel filter I thought nothing of it. I know different now. I thought I had literally turned green. Nope...smoking just wasn't for me. Or, so I thought.

Enter M. M was a boy. I had a crush on M. He seemed to have a crush on me. We would give each other smirks and come hither looks across the cafe where I worked. He came to the cafe counter one day and invited me out for a drink...as soon as my shift was over. I played it cool. Said 'sure' and, after he left, rushed around like a mad idiot to cash out. We went to Cafe Rosie Lee. No longer around. Best food/server/cook around. We split a bottle of red and giggled and smiled and felt the emergence of an instant bond...the kind that only hunger and alcohol can make. He offered to drive me home. He had to go to Barrie that night to pick up some photographic equipment from his father. When we got in the car, he said 'where to?' I said 'Barrie.' He stared at me, smiled and off we went. It felt like love. When we got to Barrie it was well over midnight. I still hadn't eaten anything since that morning and, the red wine was now doing some nasty impromtu performances in my gut. I wanted food. I wanted sleep. M's dad was up. M and his dad both smoked. A lot. They immediately lit up in the kitchen. His dad was watching late night t.v. repleat with late night escort type commercials. I commented. Negatively. Forcefully. I wish I could remember what exactly I had said. In my defence, I do not normally insult people when I first meet them (not all the time anyway) but, I was drunk, hungry and getting sick off the smoke. M brought me to the guest bedroom and I passed out. I woke up hours later to the smell. The smell of grease. The smell of dead pig. The unmistakeable smell of bacon. I thought I was going to puke right there and then. You see, one of the personnas I picked up at Uni was that of a vegetarian. Needless to say, I declined the meat filled breakfast. None other was offered. M and I got in the car and drove off. I spent the ride home apologizing for my behaviour. M told me not to worry about it. No harm done. He dropped me off at home, kissed my cheek and told me he'd see me later.

Later. M wanted to talk. He told me that he like me but, we just wouldn't work as a couple. He gave me 3 reasons: I was a radical feminist (based on my comments to his father regarding the late night escort commercials), I was a vegetarian (guilty), and, I was a non-smoker. I looked at him and said 'you're kidding right?' He shook his head. We can still be friends right?

I was furious. How dare he. I needed to leave town. I called a pal up in Toronto and told her to expect me. I jumped on a bus and took off. At the first rest break, I bought myself a pack of Players Light Regular and tried to smoke one. I nearly threw up but I persevered and managed to get most of it down. I started sharing dirty/sexist jokes with my fellow smokers. When I arrived in Toronto, I went to the first hotdog stand I could find and proceeded to choke down the largest polish sausage there was. I spent the weekend going for long walks and smoking like a chimney. I had to take the walks cuz my pal was a non smoker and didn't want me smoking around her home. The cigarettes gradually began to taste better and by the time the weekend was over. I could do this. I could smoke.

Back home, I went out to the local. M was there. I took out my smokes (same brand as his). He lifted an eyebrow and lit my smoke for me. So there, I thought. He just looked at me. It was then that I realized that his reasons for us not being together were, as I had suspected, full of shit. But, as I sat there slowly exhaling it dawned on me. I was hooked.